


Better to Be Fake and Happy Deleted Scenes

by MewWinx96



Series: What I Write are Not Sins, I Write Tragedies [2]
Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, F/M, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-06-07 07:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MewWinx96/pseuds/MewWinx96
Summary: Deleted scenes and alternate takes from my fic "Better to Be Fake and Happy."





	1. Here Comes a Thought

**Author's Note:**

> The following are scenes from my original draft of Better to Be Fake and Happy that I deleted for various reasons. If you're reading this on AO3, feel free to skip ahead to the next work in the series (whenever I manage to write that.) If you're on FFN, that means you voluntarily chose to read this fic and I just have to ask, what is wrong with you?
> 
> Disclaimer (which is totally unnecessary given that this is a FANFICTION SITE): The following is a work of fanfiction. All recognizable characters are the property of Stage 6 Films, 12 Gauge Comics, and (regrettably) Troy Duffy. All rights go to them and any other third parties that I might have failed to mention.
> 
> This fic is rated M for intense crude language, descriptions of violence, and characters displaying suicidal tendencies. None of this goes into MA territory, but if any of this bothers you, you probably should stop reading this fic now. (It's not any worse than the movie, though. I promise.)

It's a strange thought, but it's true; one conversation can change the world. It is. It's really true. Think of all the wars that could have been stopped, all the needless deaths, all the lives that could have been changed, if just two people sat down and had a conversation.

Take this scenario for example: A guy thinks his girlfriend is cheating on him. She isn't really, but he just has this sinking feeling that she is. One day, he decides to drive by her house in the middle of the day just to see if she's there and notices a strange van parked in her driveway. That's all the proof he needs to take out the revolver he keeps in his glovebox, break down the door, and put three shots in both his girlfriend and the cable guy. Yes, the cable guy, who was  **actually** installing her cable. Now, if you think about it, this entire scenario could have been prevented with something as simple as one single conversation. The guy could have just outright asked his girlfriend if she was cheating on him; he could have disclosed his fears to a friend or family member who could talk some sense into him; and hell – not to put the blame on the victim here – his girlfriend could have just  **mentioned**  that she was having cable installed in her house that day and maybe he wouldn't have overreacted. However, we can never be sure that things would have gone differently because, unfortunately, that never happened.

Conversations can also condemn you. Think of all the things you agreed to that you absolutely regret now. Maybe it's that guy who you thought was a ten that you left the bar with who later turned out to be a two once you got him home and sobered up a bit. Maybe you told a secret to someone who thought was your friend and they ended up blabbing it to anyone with a pair of working ears. Maybe you said something you didn't mean to a person you care about and never got to apologize for it. Who knows? The point is you've said something that you've said something that either regretted immediately or came to regret later. We all have. Conversely, it might not be something you said, but rather a choice you made. Maybe you agreed to something you wish you didn't. Maybe your choice negatively impacted others and now you wish you never had the conversations that lead you to make that choice. Well, do you?

The point is that a single conversation, a single choice made could change the entire course of history; the entire universe even. It really is strange, don't you think, how just a few little words can have so much power?

* * *

**April 21st, 2000**

She didn't even hear the phone ringing. She was too absorbed in the book she was reading. She wouldn't even remember what the book was about later, she'd just remember that it was so enthralling that Mabel had to drop the phone on her face and snap at her to make it quick because she was expecting a call from some boy. She told the teenager to go screw herself and flipped her off for good measure before bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She said into the receiver.

"Hey, babe," he said.

"Oh, hey," she said. "What's up?"

"Uh, well…" He seemed to hesitate for a second before figuring out what he wanted to say. She didn't think much of it at the time, but she would later. "Nothing much I guess. I was just wondering if you had any plans for tonight."

"Plans," she questioned. "Why would I have any plans?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe you decided to go out somewhere with Julie?"

"Where would I go?" She asked. "You always get mad when I go somewhere."

"Well, are you going anywhere?" He asked.

"No," she said. "Of course not, why would I?"

"Good," he said. "I was just making sure. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to have dinner with my parents tonight." Her heart literally dropped when he said that.

"What?" She said. "Can you say that again? I'm not sure if I heard you right."

He let out an annoyed huff before saying "do you want to have dinner with my parents tonight? Yes or no, I need an answer!"

"Yes," she said. "Of course, yes! Oh, God! Sorry, that just took me by surprise. We've been dating for six years and not once have you asked me if I wanted to meet your parents."

"Well, I'm asking you now," he said. "Can you be ready by five-thirty? I'll pick you up."

"Uh, yeah, sure," she glanced at the clock. She had about four hours. "I can be ready by then. God, I can't believe this! I'm meeting your  **parents**!"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "It's just my parents. It's not like you're meeting the fucking Pope."

"Yeah, but this is a huge step," she said, and she knew exactly what it meant. "I just… I'm in disbelief! I didn't think you wanted something like this."

"Yeah, well, neither did me 'till I did it." That statement was another thing she'd look back on, pick apart, and examine, but once again, at the time she thought nothing of it. She was just so happy that he'd be so ready and willing to make such a commitment. "I'll let you go so you can get ready."

"Okay," she said. "I love you, babe."

"Love you, too," he said before hanging up the phone. As soon as the line went dead she began ecstatically jumping for joy. She couldn't believe this. She was going to meet his parents! That was pretty much just one step away from a proposal. She felt like crying, she just couldn't wrap her head around this. Finally,  **finally** , after six years of dating he was finally ready to spend the rest of his life with her. She had been waiting for this since the day she turned eighteen. She had to force herself to take a deep, calming breath so that way she could make herself look halfway decent so she wouldn't embarrass herself in front of his family.

However, before she did this she couldn't help but have a little fun first. She took the phone, marched straight into the living room, and threw the phone directly at Mabel's head. The girl caught sight of her in time, though, and dodged before it could connect with her skull. As Mabel let out a surprised gasp of "what the fuck", she flipped her off and said: "Fuck you and your little boyfriend! I'm getting married, bitch!" She ran back into the room laughing manically. Mabel chased her halfway up the hall before the phone began to ring again, causing her to make a mad dash to the living room and – from the sound of the crash – body dived for the phone. The thought of the teenager causing bodily harm to herself just to talk to a guy who would probably dump her next week only increased her joy tenfold. 


	2. Eleanor Braden vs. the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been chapter three if I went with my original draft.

The bell above the door clanged loudly as the glass slammed against it almost hard enough to leave a crack behind.

"Well, I hope you're happy now, Jules," Ellie said as she stomped back over to the booth she and her best friend had claimed as their own all the way back in their freshman year. "I just made myself look like an ass in front of those two guys."

"Don't be so overly dramatic." Julie rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her pizza.

"I'm serious," Ellie said. "I think I scared that poor boy  **you**  made me give my number to."

"I didn't make you do anything," Julie quickly protested.

"You stuffed a napkin with my phone number on it into my pocket before throwing me out of the restaurant and refusing to let me back inside." The frustration in Ellie's voice grew with every word. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's forcing someone to do something."

"Fair point," Julie said. "But, that aside, I don't really think you scared that boy at all. Look, he keeps glancing back over here."

"He's probably just looking to see if his bus is coming so that way he can get away from me faster," Ellie said.

"Okay," Julie said. "I get you have self-esteem issues and I know where they are coming from, but you've got to give yourself more credit. That boy was totally checking you out as you came up to him."

"One," Ellie said. "I don't have any god damn self-esteem issues. Two, that guy definitely was not checking me out. Hell, he sounded kind of confused and distant while I was talking to him, so I think he could give less of a fuck about me. Three, I don't need you throwing me out of pizza places and forcing me to talk to strangers, thank you very much."

"Well, you need someone to push you," Julie said. "You haven't gone out with anyone since Anthony."

"No," Ellie said, taking a bite of her pizza. "I haven't."

"So," Julie said. "It's been a year and a half. Don't you think you should get yourself back out there?" Ellie wiped some sauce from her mouth and lowered her eyes away from her best friend.

"No," Ellie said. "I don't want to 'get back out there'; I can't. I never want to be with anyone again, and you're not going to convince me otherwise." She lifted her eyes back to Julie's. "Understand?"

"Alright," Julie said. "Fine, I won't push you to ask anyone else out ever again. However, I will state that I'd rather see you happy with that really hot guy across the street rather than sad and lonely for the rest of your life."

Ellie gave an annoyed hum and went back to devouring her pizza. She and Julie sat in silence for a while, before Ellie finally admitted: "Okay, I guess that guy was pretty good looking." She cracked a small smile as she said that and Julie laughed.

* * *

**April 21st, 2000**

"Please, Julie," Ellie said as she paced around the room. "I'm begging you! Just help me pick something out!"

"I told you," Julie said, barely looking up from her magazine. "You look good in anything. Don't worry about it."

"I absolutely have to worry about this!" Ellie flung the dress she was holding back onto Mabel's bed. "I'm meeting his parents! His  **parents**! If I'm not dressed perfectly, I'm not going to hear the end of it!"

"Yeah, don't you think it's weird, though?" Julie asked. "I mean, you guys have been dating for six years he's been adamant against introducing you to his family, and then all of a sudden he needs you to meet them immediately?"

"Nah," Ellie said. "Actually, I think I know why he's doing this."

"Really," Julie said. "Why?"

"I think he might be thinking about proposing," Ellie said.

"What?" Julie said. "Oh my god, you can't be serious!"

"Well, he hasn't said anything yet," Ellie said, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice. "But I think that's what's going to happen."

"Oh god, Ellie," Julie said. "I can't believe this is happening!"

"I know, right!" Ellie punctuated that with a little hop. "Now, help me pick something out! It has to be modest and classy, but not so much so that I look like a nun."

Julie got up and bit her lip, her eyes quickly going over the dresses on the younger Maynard daughter's bed.

"What about this blue one?" Julie picked up the dress in question and held up against Ellie. It was a sleeveless, dark blue, curve-hugging dress that stopped just before her knees. "I think it would look nice." Ellie looked skeptical.

"I'm not sure," She said. "It's sleeveless. Anthony's not going to like that. Plus, it might also be a little too short."

"I thought you said you  **didn't** want to look like a nun," Julie remarked.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I'm just worried he'll think I'm showing off to much skin."

"You're going to be wearing tights with it, right?" Ellie nodded. "So you shouldn't be worried about how short the skirt is. It'll definitely look good like that and you won't really be showing off that much skin. Also, I think Sky might have a cardigan that would go good with this."

"Oh-no," Ellie said. "I'm not taking Sky's clothes, especially while she's at work. Last time I did that, hell rained down and I don't want to go through that experience again."

"It'll be fine," Julie said. "She won't even notice and if she does, I'll tell her that Mabel stole it for her date with Steve."

"Eh," Ellie crossed her arms. "I guess that'll work. I'm just worried about what Anthony will think."

"Don't worry about it too much," Julie said. "Just think about how good tonight's going to be and be happy."

"Thanks, Jules." Ellie took the dress from her best friend's hands and held it close to her. "I don't know what I would do without you." She then skipped off to her bedroom to try on the outfit that her best friend/adoptive sister had suggested, completely unaware of the deep concern her friend had in her voice as she spoke. After all, they say love blinds.

* * *

**November 13th, 2001**

Ellie forced her eyes open. Glancing around her dorm room, she tried to calm her breathing down and reassure herself that it was just a dream. Although, technically it wasn't a dream; it was a memory that would hurt her if she allowed it to continue on and she was extremely thankful that she was able to get herself up this time. She couldn't bear to relive that horror again.

Sitting up, Ellie noticed that her roommate had already left for the day. At first, that made Ellie worried that she had overslept, but then she glanced at the clock and saw that it was seven o'clock; an hour earlier than when she normally woke up. She'd think it strange if it didn't mean that she'd be able to get ready for the day herself in peace.

Climbing out of bed, she grabbed her clothes and began to head out towards the bathrooms and showers. She didn't want to try and catch a little bit more sleep. She just wanted to put it out of her mind and get on with her day. If she just put it out of her mind, it would be like it never happened. More than anything, that's what she wanted to believe.

* * *

Although Ellie would normally be grateful for the unexpected early start to her day, on this day, she wasn't. She had a meeting with her Class Advisor, and she honestly would have rather slept through it. However, she had little choice given the dream she had and the fact that if she missed it she'd end up having to reschedule, meaning that she'd have to have this conversation eventually. Though she really wasn't looking forward to this, she'd rather get this over with sooner rather than later.

"Miss Braden," Her advisor's secretary called out from the door of the office. Ellie looked up from the notes she was reading and quickly slid it back into her backpack. "Dr. Carter will see you now." Ellie nodded, got up, and quickly followed the secretary into the office.

Ellie hadn't been called into her class advisor's office before. She did meet with her at the beginning of her freshman year just like everyone else, but she had never been called in to be reprimanded before, and she knew she was definitely going to be reprimanded. She was failing most of her classes. It wasn't for lack of trying. She had spent most of her time studying and handed all of her work for the term in on time, but for whatever reason she just wasn't retaining the information she was supposed to be learning. It likely had to do with the fact that she was staying up as late as she possibly could and getting up after only a few hours of sleep, but she viewed that as being necessary obstacle to her everyday life.

Ellie stepped into the metal doorframe and tapped her finger against it in order to alert the older woman to her presence.

"Hi," Ellie said as Dr. Carter looked up. "I'm Eleanor Braden. You asked to see me today."

"Oh yes." Dr. Carter broke out a nice, polite smile that she probably used on all of the students she supervised. She got up from her chair and held out her hand for Ellie to shake. "It's nice to see you again, Eleanor. Is that what you prefer to go by or do you have any sort of nickname?"

"Eleanor's fine," she said as she shook the woman's hand.

"Okay then, Eleanor," Dr. Carter said as she pulled back from the handshake. "You can sit down in that chair right there. We have a lot to discuss and it may take a while." Ellie nodded and sat down where the other woman instructed. Dr. Carter sat back down in her chair behind her desk. "So, Eleanor, I know we probably met before but it's been so long that I feel it necessary to re-introduce myself to you. My name is Dr. Louise Carter. I serve as class advisor to all students last names A-E in the graduating class of 2002. I've called you in today because your professors have expressed concern about how you've been preforming. Is that correct?"

"Yes." She looked down at her feet as she said that. "I haven't really been doing too well."

"Why is that?" Dr. Carter asked.

"I'm not really that sure." She bit her lip and began to twiddle her thumbs. Although she was being honest, she knew the older woman wouldn't believe her.

"Well," Dr. Carter said. "I took the liberty of looking up your transcripts from the past three semesters. I happened to notice that you did fairly well in your freshman and sophomore years, but around your junior year your grades seemed to start to drop off."

"Sounds about right," Ellie said.

"Do you know why this might be?" Dr. Carter asked.

"No." She still refused to look up from her shoes. Dr. Carter took this as a sign that she should probably try to change gears.

"Eleanor, I don't want to upset you or anything, but I did look in your file and it did mention that you went through a traumatic event at the end of your sophomore year." Ellie immediately looked up and stared at the older woman with wide eyes. She gripped tightly to the armrests and started to try to go back as far as she could in the chair without tipping it over. "Don't worry," Dr. Carter assured. "I'm not going to force you to talk about it and your file didn't go into too much detail. I'm just mentioning it because the timeline seems to match up with when you started doing poorly in your classes. That's all." Ellie nodded in understanding.

"I guess that's a theory," Ellie said as she ran her hands through her hair.

"Would you say that it's a correct one?" Dr. Carter asked. Ellie didn't answer and directed her gaze back down towards the floor. "Eleanor, if you don't mind me asking, have you been seeing someone to help deal with the after effects of this traumatic event?"

"What do you mean?" Ellie asked.

"Have you been seeing any sort of councilor or therapist?" Dr. Carter asked.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I saw a therapist."

"Are you still seeing this therapist?" Dr. Carter asked. Ellie bit her lip and shook her head. In all honesty, she only went to a therapy session once in the weeks following this "traumatic event" and any time the therapist tried to direct the conversation back to her, Ellie just started talking about something completely different. She remembered they had quite the interesting conversation about  _the Sopranos_. "Do you think you would benefit from seeing some kind of psychiatric councilor?"

"No," Ellie said quickly. "I think I'm fine right now. I just probably need to study more."

"Are you sure about that?" Dr. Carter asked. "No one's going to think any less of you for asking for help."

"No," Ellie said. "I'm fine. I just need to hit the books more. That's all."

"Alright," Dr. Carter said. "You don't feel like you need to change your major or anything?"

"No," Ellie said. "I'm fine where I am. In fact, I have a class across campus in fifteen minutes." She slipped her backpack back onto her shoulders and began to stand up. Dr. Carter glanced at the clock on her computer and it seemed to confirm her attempt of escape.

"Oh," Dr. Carter said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you so long."

"It's fine," Ellie said. "I just need to get to class."

"Well, it was nice meeting you again, Eleanor." The older woman once again held out her hand for Ellie to shake. As Ellie took it, she felt the other woman give her a reassuring squeeze. "If you ever need to talk, my office is always open."

"I'll keep that in mind." Ellie gave her class advisor a polite smile. "Thank you."

Ellie then turned and walked out of the office, breathing a sigh of relief as she raced off to her first class of the day.

* * *

Ellie had a hard time resisting the urge to growl in frustration as she turned up the volume on her portable CD player. Eminem's anger-fueled lyrics were now coming in through her headphones at the maximum volume with the bass boosted, and she  **still**  could hear the two women chatting loudly behind her. She had asked them to be quiet about six times now, each time making her anger more apparent to the two girls, but they just ignored her and continued on with their conversation in voices that just seemed to get increasingly shrill with every word like they didn't know that people around them were working and they should probably be quiet.

Ellie wasn't even sure if they worked for the paper. No one ever really seemed to take the school's student-run paper seriously. People would just show up one day. Then they would disappear the next day with little to no explanation as to why they were there in the first place or why they left. Ellie had figured out early on in her freshmen year that many people just assumed the newsroom was a free-to-use study center and just went in there, sat down, and just did their work for a little while. Ellie usually didn't mind that as long as they stayed quiet and out of the way. These girls, however, were neither.

Ellie wasn't even sure who they were. She had never seen them before, ever. She wasn't even sure they went to school here. They both looked like they should be in middle school. Realistically, they were probably just freshmen who just wanted to sit down somewhere and talk, but there were hundreds of other, better places to do that. For example, there was the student center – which was still open at this time – the cafeteria – which wasn't serving food yet, but was still open to the students – and hell, they could even sit on a bench outside and disturb less people.

Ellie had resolved to throw them out if they didn't shut up by the end of the song she was currently listening to, but before she got the chance, a sophomore who's name she recalled as being Josh dropped a stack of papers down in front of her. He said something, but Ellie couldn't hear him over Eminem complaining about getting blamed for the Columbine Shooting and the cackles of the two extremely obnoxious girls behind her. After she pause the song; Ellie quickly asked the younger man to wait for a second before turning and shushing the two girls behind her and shooting them a death glare. The two girls just scoffed, rolled their eyes, and continued on with the conversation. It was taking everything within her not to punch them in the face. Taking one deep, calming breath, Ellie turned back to the boy standing in front of her desk.

"I'm sorry," Ellie said. "What did you want?"

"I need you to approve this article for publication in the next issue," Josh said, gesturing at the papers that he put down on her desk. Ellie had to take another deep, calming breath to keep from screaming at the kid.

"Josh," Ellie said. "We've been over this before. I'm just the copy editor. I just check all the articles for spelling and grammatical errors. Andrew is the editor and he gets the final say in what goes in and what doesn't."

"I know," Josh said. "It's just that Andrew locked himself in his 'office' and is refusing to let anyone in."

"What?" Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose. "Christ, what's up his ass this time?"

"I don't know," Josh said. "He wouldn't let me in." Ellie scoffed and stood up.

"Just give me a second," She said. "I'll talk to him."

"Alright," Josh shrugged and wandered back over to his desk. Ellie then turned on her heel and addressed the two girls behind her.

"I have told you multiple times now to take you conversation someplace else." The two girls just narrowed their eyes in further annoyance. "Now, I am going to go to talk to someone. You better not be here when I get back, otherwise I'm throwing you out of here myself." The girls once again scoffed and started up their conversation once again. Ellie rolled her eyes and turned to walk towards Andrew's office.

When he had been named editor of the school's newspaper the previous year, he had immediately cleared out one of the supply closets and turned it into his office. No one objected to it, despite the fact that it was probably against fire code (though, they were probably hoping that he would get trapped in there if there actually was a fire). It was probably better than having to deal with him out in the newsroom all the time.

Ellie knocked on the thin white door near the back of the room. She heard a muffled reply of "I'm busy," and was forced to try her hardest to resist the urge to roll her eyes again. She failed, and knocked again.

"I said 'I'm busy,'" Andrew's frustrated voice could be heard through the door. "Go away!"

"Well," Ellie said. "I need to talk to you about something, so I can't really go away. I suppose I could just blather on about random nonsense until you open the door, though. That ought to kill some time."

"Oh God," Andrew groaned. Ellie crossed her arms and turned her back to the wall that the door was on so she could lean against it.

"So," She said. "The other day I was in class taking notes and I couldn't stop staring at my pencil. Don't worry, I was kind of on autopilot taking notes, so I didn't miss anything, but I started wondering as I wrote what happens to all the words that get erased. I mean, once you erase a word, it's gone. Even if you try to rewrite that thought completely, it's not the same thought you had before and I was just wondering…" At that point, Andrew opened the door.

"You know," he said. "It really annoys me when you do that shit."

"Yeah," Ellie said. "And it really annoys me when you block out the entire world when work needs to be done." She then held up the papers Josh put on her desk. "Josh needs you review this article for tomorrow's issue." Andrew narrowed his eyes at her.

"Why couldn't you do it?" he asked.

"I can't do it because I'm the copy editor," Ellie said. "I already checked it for spelling and grammar yesterday and as far as I can tell this revised copy has no errors whatsoever. You're the one who decides what goes to print and what doesn't."

"Fine," Andrew said. "What is it about?"

"I'm not telling you," Ellie said. "Read it yourself!"

"I can't," Andrew said. "I'm busy!"

"What the fuck could you be busy with?" Ellie asked. "You never do anything around here!"

"Look," Andrew said. "I'm busy doing something for my major. Can you just leave me alone?"

"Do it on your own time," Ellie said. She then pointed at the papers, her index fingers tapping the stapled-together white sheets at a rapid pace. " **This**  is what you're supposed to be doing right now. I know a lot of people use this as 'study time', but you're the editor. You're supposed to set a better example. You're the one who's supposed to hassle people to get their articles in on time and motivate them to do better, not me. In fact, if I wasn't required to be here for  **my**  major, I'd walk out of here right now just to prove my point, but I can't. So can you please – just for five fucking minutes – do you job so that way I can get mine done?"

Andrew didn't say anything in response. He just took the papers from her hand and retreated back into his office, shutting the door behind him. Ellie let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding and turned to walk back to her desk. The two chatty girls had left, which only increased her sense of relief. Sitting back down, Ellie slipped the headphones back onto her ears and hit the play button. She could only hope that the music would make the next few hours of fixing typos and checking facts go by faster.

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Ellie made it back to her dorm, and by that point she was completely exhausted. She didn't have another class until six o'clock that evening, which was good. She'd have plenty of time to catch a nap before her next class. As long as her roommate wasn't back yet, that was. However, she was pretty certain that her roommate had a class at four o'clock on Tuesdays, so that was unlikely to be a problem.

As she approached the pathway that led to her dorm building, she saw Julie emerge from the other door on the other side of the building. Even though they were adoptive sisters, the school had assigned them to different dorms. However, the two dorms they were assigned to – Spangenberg for Julie and Williamson for Ellie – were in the same building, so they still saw each other often. Upon seeing each other, the two girls quickly met up in the lawn space between the two dorms.

"Hey," Ellie said as she approached. "What's up?"

"I was just heading over to grab something from the cafeteria," Julie said. "Want to come with?"

"No," Ellie said. "I'm kind of tired. I was just going to head back in and take a nap."

"Is Zara there?" Julie asked.

"I don't think so," Ellie said. "I'm pretty sure she has a class right now."

"Alright," Julie said. "I won't keep you. Oh, did that guy call you yet." Ellie's brow furrowed.

"Guy?" she said. "What guy?"

"The one you gave your number too yesterday." It took a few seconds more for the events of the previous day to come back to her.

"Oh, that guy," Ellie said. "No, he hasn't yet. I don't think he will, honestly."

"Just give it a bit more time," Julie said. "I'm sure he will." Ellie scoffed at that.

"I'm not worried about it," Ellie said. "I didn't even want to give him my number in the first place. You made me."

"Yes," Julie said as she started to walk off. "And one day, you'll thank me for it."

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I'll be thanking you when I have to change my number because some telemarketing service won't stop calling me! Seriously, that guy's not going to call me back!"

"You'll see!" Julie continued to skip off to the cafeteria. Ellie just rolled her eyes and made her way inside the building.

Ellie's dorm room was up two flights of stairs and just to the right of the entrance of the stairway. Walking into the room, she quickly saw that luck really wasn't on her side as her roommate – Zara Bailsman, who's unusual appearance of being overweight with what little hair remained of her last shave job was dyed green complimented her name – did in fact happen to be home. It was then that Ellie remembered that the class Zara had at four was held on Thursdays, not Tuesdays. She then kicked herself mentally. Had she remembered that, then she would have asked Julie for the keys so she could take a nap in the back seat of the car. It was too late to go back now.

Lucky for her, Zara had left the door open when she walked in the room and currently had her back to the door as she searched through a drawer in one of the cabinets under her bunk to find something. Ellie figured that if she was real quiet, she'd be able to slip into bed without Zara noticing her presence, at least until she found whatever she was looking for. That just might give her enough time to enjoy at least three seconds of glorious, uninterrupted sleep.

Stepping as quietly as possible, Ellie was able to successfully enter the dorm room without Zara noticing. She silently slipped her backpack off her shoulder and placed it down on the ground by the foot of her bunk. Zara still hadn't looked up from the drawer. Ellie then placed her laptop down as gently as she could on her desk, and by that point she thought she was home free. Just as she began to climb up onto her bunk, Zara turned around and saw her.

"Oh," she said. "You're back."

"Zara," Ellie said as she turned to lie down facing away from the other girl. "Please, can we not do this right now? I need to sleep."

"Yeah," Zara said. "Sure little privileged white girl. Sleep the days away while the rest of us slave away trying to win the rights your kind deny us."

"I would point out that you're white and probably twice as privileged as me," Ellie said. "But I'm just way too fucking tired right now. Can't I just take a rain check on the diatribe? I promise I'll only call you a bitch once during the entire process." Zara clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes as she approached Ellie's bunk.

"You disgust me," Zara said. "Seriously, people like you disgust me. All you little white sorority girls are the same; you rely on your looks all your life and expect that mommy and daddy's trust fund will take care of everything, never noticing the unfortunate souls who slave away, making your designer shoes and serving you your expensive mocha-chinos. Guess what, sweetie, mommy and daddy aren't going to be there to save you forever and I will rue the day I walk into a strip joint and see there, sliding your ass down a pole for all those disgusting horny pigs just to make a quick buck." Ellie got up and turned back to face her, fury burning in her eyes.

"Alright," She said. "There is so much wrong with what you just said, I'm going to have to list it all out in order right here right now. Number one; I am not a sorority girl. I'm not in a sorority. This college doesn't even have sororities, so that point is invalid. Number two; although I am journalism major, I do not want my looks to be something I rely on to further my career. Looks fade; your other merits are what give you worth to employers. Number three; I don't have parents nor do I have a trust fund. Also, if you just looked at my closet or payed attention to my dietary habits, you would know that I don't have designer clothes nor do I drink that overpriced shit from Starbucks. Finally, number four; in the unlikely scenario that I was somehow forced to work in the sex industry, I'm planning on skipping stripping and just going straight to working girl. Seriously, if you just actually paid attention to me instead of stereotyping me, you would know this shit and wouldn't try to get in my face and make false accusations. If you seriously have a problem with me, then go tell the DA that you want to switch rooms. Of course, I doubt they'll let you room with your girlfriend, but it's worth a shot anyway. Right now, can you just please fuck off? I honest to God am going to pass out in the middle of my next class if I don't manage to get some sleep now!"

Zara was silent for a long moment and Ellie couldn't help but feel a small sense of triumph was over her. However, that quickly faded as Zara narrowed her eyes and got even further into her personal space, pointing at her and jutting out her chin.

"You are going to regret ever saying that," She said. "Just wait and see." She then turned – grabbing her own backpack off of the back of her chair – and left, leaving Ellie behind feeling a sudden, horrifying mixture of weakness and dread. Tears welled up in her eyes and her shoulders started to shake.

_I shouldn't have done that,_  she thought.  _I shouldn't have said that. Now I'm going to pay for it, of course. I deserve this. I deserve all of this. I'm such a fucking waste of space. I should have just ignored her and kept my mouth shut. Better yet, I should have just learned her damn class schedule so that way I wouldn't have had to have gone through this whole ordeal in the first place. God, why am I so retarded? I can't do anything right!_

Realizing that she probably needed to calm down before she became too upset to go to class; Ellie forced herself to lie down on the bed so that way she could finally just get some sleep. Although the threat of that reoccurring nightmare loomed over her, she knew that she definitely needed to get some sleep now. She'd be able to control her emotions better if she was well-rested. She settled in, putting her arms around one of her pillows and holding it close. Faster than she expected, she was pulled into the deep, dark, welcoming embrace of sleep.

* * *

A loud ringing noise pulled her immediately from sleep. At first, she thought it was the fire alarm, but then she remembered that sounded more like somebody being tortured rather than the pleasant chime of bells. She looked at her alarm clock. It wasn't the source of the sound, but she was able to discern that it was 5:35 PM. That was great. She had just about twenty-five minutes until she had to be in class. Sitting up, she groaned as she realized that she was probably going to need to change her shirt as she got drool and tears all over the sleeves of the one she was wearing. That meant she was going to have to find an acceptable shirt, rush to the cafeteria, devour her dinner as quickly as possible, and rush to her next class. She had only intended to sleep for an hour, and it was probably lucky that ringing had started; otherwise she wouldn't have woken up.

Quickly realizing that the ringing was coming from her cell phone, Ellie quickly slipped off the bed and rushed over to her backpack where the device was located. She wasn't too worried about missing the call. It was most likely Lori calling to check in, but then again Lori didn't like it when she, Julie, or any of the other kids ignored her calls and forced her to call back, and she obviously wasn't particularly keen to deal with an annoyed Lori right now.

Grabbing the phone out of its designated pocket, Ellie saw that it was a number she didn't recognize calling. She did notice, however, that it had a Boston area code, so she just shrugged, figuring it was Tyler or someone calling from a pay phone. She hit the accept button and brought the device to her ear.

"Hello," she said.

"Uh, hi, is this Eleanor Braden?" Ellie immediately recognized the voice. After all, she didn't know that many people with an Irish accent.

_Well,_  she thought.  _I certainly owe Julie an apology._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, deleted scenes are not canon.
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 7/13/18.


	3. Party Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And this would be Chapter Four.

**November 13th, 2001**

People rarely do something for no reason at all. Everything happens for a reason; however, once Murphy was on the phone with Ellie he couldn't discern the reason why he called her. He wasn't as unfocused as he was the day before, but his head still kind of hurt. That didn't explain his sudden lapse in memory, though. He did want to call her. He knew he shouldn't and wouldn't outright admit it if asked, but he did.

However, that didn't explain or justify his actions. He knew he shouldn't call her. He knew it was a bad idea, given that he and Connor were vigilante killers and he could be potentially putting her in danger, but that apparently didn't stop him from digging her number out of his coat pocket, taking the phone off the side table, and calling her up. Now he was talking to her and he didn't know what he was doing and what he should say. That was great.

"Oh, hi," Ellie said on the other end of the line, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting it to be you. It's Murphy, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry, were you expecting another call?"

"No," she said. "I just didn't think you would actually call." He felt a pang of guilt run through his system.

"You gave me your number," he pointed out. "And I wouldn't have taken it if I wasn't planning on calling you."

"Really," she said. "Are you sure about that?"

"I'm sure," he lied.

"Alright," she said. "I'll take your word for it then."

There was a brief pause.

"So, what are you doing?" Murphy asked.

"I just woke up from a nap," Ellie said. "And now I'm just getting ready for my next class."

"Okay," he said, slightly disappointed. "I'll let you go then."

"No," she said. "That's okay. I have a bit of time. Plus, this is a cell phone. I can go anywhere with it."

"Right," he said.

"So, what are you doing?" she asked.

"I just woke up as well," he said.

"Oh, really," she said. "That's a coincidence. What did you work late or something?"

"No," he said. "Not last night. I'm going to have to tonight, though."

"That sucks," she said. "Where do you work?"

"I'm self-employed," he managed to say more convincingly than the last time.

"That's cool," Ellie said. "But what do you do?"

"Nothing really that exciting," Murphy said. "You wouldn't be interested." He'd think of a better way to avoid the question, but his headache was still bad enough to effect his concentration somewhat. He doubted he'd be able to come up with a sustainable lie like this.

"You'd be surprised," Ellie said. "I'm interested in a lot of things most people aren't."

"Oh yeah," Murphy said. "Like what?"

"Well," Ellie said. "I would assume you've probably gathered from our encounter at the bar that I'm somewhat into psychology. Well, more sociology than psychology. I know some things about psychology as they relate to a sociological context."

"Is that what you're studying in school?" Murphy asked.

"No," she said. "It's just something I have a little bit of interest in. If I had to study it all the time, I'd probably get overly paranoid; thinking everyone I encounter is a psychopath or something."

"Oh," he said. "Then what do you study?"

"Journalism," she said.

"Really," he said.

"Yeah," she said.

"Is that something you're interested in?" he asked, but he could already tell what her answer would be, given how short and unsure her answers were and sounded.

"Not really as much as I used to be," she answered slowly, hesitating with each and every word.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"I," she said. "I'm not really that sure. To be honest, I mostly just chose this major because it was the only thing that had to do with something I liked enough to maybe want to do for the rest of my life and that had a respectable career attached to it."

"Seriously," he said. "What made you think that?"

"Someone I'd rather not talk about." Her voice sounded grave as she gave that response. Murphy decided not to push it.

"Alright," he said. "You don't have to tell me."

"Good," Ellie said, sounding somewhat relieved. Murphy heard a door open and click shut before she started speaking again, this time much quieter. "So, what do you find interesting?"

"A lot of things," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "Like what?" He just gave a hum that was both non-committal and non-specific in response. "You know, that isn't much of a response, and don't think I didn't notice that you weaseled your way out of telling me about your job." He knew that, but he was worried about telling her too much about himself. It was wrong to call her in the first place and he didn't want to make it worse by allowing her to get too attached. However, he wasn't extending himself the same courtesy. He heard her sigh on the other end of the line. "How about this, let me rephrase the question: What do you like to do?" At this point, he gave in. At the very least, he could tell her that.

"Well," he said. "I like to go out drinking with my brother…" He actually had to stop himself from saying "and Rocco". It had been over two years and he still found himself forgetting sometimes that their friend was gone. He never forgot that it was their fault, though.

"Gee," Ellie said before his thoughts could go down a dark path. "I never would have guessed." He found himself cracking a smile at her sarcastic tone. "Seriously, though, I want to know; how do you enjoy yourself, when your brother ditches you to stick his tongue down some whore's throat? No offence, though. I'd say the same thing about my own brother."

"Classy," Murphy said.

"Well, I try," She said.

"He's not always like that," Murphy said. "Actually, that's the first time he's ditched me in a while."

"A while being…?" Ellie said.

"Over two years." Murphy wasn't sure if he should have told her that, but he decided he would take the beating from his brother if he ever found out and so desired.

"Damn," she said, much louder this time. From what he could hear in the background, Murphy could discern that she probably walked outside. "That's quite a long time to go without any sex."

"Yeah," he said, realizing at that moment he had definitely said too much, but not really caring given that she was giggling. "It's still a long time."

"What do you mean?" As soon as she said that it dawned on her and she started laughing more. "You mean he still didn't get any? Damn! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that. That's mean, but damn, your poor brother."

"His name is Connor," Murphy said.

"Connor," Ellie repeated. "Poor Connor, but what happened?"

"Well," Murphy said. "It started with the fact that the girl was engaged and didn't tell him…"

"Of course," she said.

"…And ended with her fiancé knocking me out cold," He finished.

"Seriously," Ellie said. It was very clear that she was struggling not to laugh at his misery.

"Aye," He said. "My head's still pounding from the blow he dealt me."

"Wait," she said, her tone suddenly growing concerned. "Are you exaggerating or are you being serious."

"I'm being serious," He said. "I have this headache that I've been trying to shake off for two days and so far nothing's worked."

"If you don't mind me asking, have you noticed any other symptoms besides that?" Ellie asked.

"What do you mean?" Murphy asked.

"Well," she said. "Have you been feeling dizzy or confused?"

"Yes," he said.

"Have you been doing something and then suddenly forgotten why you were doing it?" Murphy once again responded in the affirmative, remembering what happened the previous morning. "Have you been to a doctor?" she then asked.

"No," he said.

"You should probably go now," Ellie said. "It sounds like you have a concussion."

"I don't have a concussion," Murphy assured.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"I'm sure," he said. "Connor checked me for one yesterday."

"Really," she said. "How'd he do it?"

"He flashed the lights on and off and looked at my eyes," Murphy said.

"Did he flash the lights on and off while he was looking at your eyes?" she asked.

"What does it matter?" he asked.

"Just answer the question." Murphy let out a sigh of exasperation.

"No," he said. "I think he just flashed the lights on and off then looked at my eyes. What does it matter anyways?"

"You're supposed to be looking at the person's eyes while the lights are flashing off and on," Ellie explained. "That way you can see whether or not the pupils are reacting clearer. He had the right idea, but the wrong execution. Have him do it again and check your eyes while the light is flashing." That actually made a whole lot of sense. He'd have Connor check him again once he got out of the shower.

"How do you know this?" Murphy asked.

"My sister's a pre-med student," she said. "She's wanted to be a doctor ever since she could toddle. She's made sure we all know the basics of first aid. Plus, I've also had the unfortunate experience of getting kicked in the back of the head while playing soccer."

"Is this the same sister who forced you to give me your number?" he asked.

"No," she said. "It's a different one. Actually I have an older brother and three sisters – one older, two younger. Tyler's my older brother, Julie is the one you met before and she's older than me. Then there's just Sky – she's the one who's pre-med – and Mabel."

"So you're just smack dab in the middle of all of that," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "I know that sounds pretty crazy, but we all pretty much get along just fine. Well, Mabel and I are constantly flipping each other off, but other than that we get along just fine. Anyways, what about you? Do you have any siblings besides Connor?"

"Nope," he said. "It's just the two of us."

"Which one of you is older?" Ellie was speaking up even louder now. From what he could tell through the phone line, she had just walked into some loud, crowded place.

"We don't know," Murphy said.

"What?" she said. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say you didn't know?"

"Nope," he said. He wished he could see her face in person. He loved how confused people got whenever he told them this.

"How is that possible?" Ellie said. "Unless you're in one of those weird cults that doesn't celebrate birthdays that sounds like something that would be easy to figure out." He thought about allowing her to suffer a bit longer, but decided to be merciful.

"We're twins," Murphy said. He had a hard time trying not to laugh as he heard what had to be the palm of her hand colliding with her forehead.

"Twins," she repeated. "Of course, it should have been obvious. I don't know why I didn't think of it. So I'm guessing you're fraternal, then."

"Aye," he said. "I'm the better-looking one."

"Oh God," she said. He really had a hard time trying not to laugh now.

"Are you blushing?" he asked.

"Yes," she sounded somewhat reluctant to admit that, but she was also kind of laughing to, so it didn't matter. "I still have to pay for my food. This is going to look so bad."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can let you go if you're about to eat."

"Don't be," she said. "I can talk and eat at the same time. It's no big deal."

"Don't you have a class you have to get to?" Murphy asked.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "But I can keep talking until I get there."

"You sure about that?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she said. "This is fun. I want to keep talking to you." That sounded genuine in a way that lead him to believe that wasn't something she said often.

"Alright," he said. "We can keep going."

"Alright," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Why do I have to choose?" Murphy asked.

"Because I feel like I've been mostly dominating the conversation," Ellie said.

"I'm the one who called you," he pointed out.

"Plus, you seem to be avoiding telling me too much about yourself," she said. "So I think it's only fair that you control the conversation a little bit and tell me what you want to tell me."

"I've told you a few things," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "But you haven't said that much really."

"Sure I have," he said.

"Really," she said. "Because all I know is that your name is Murphy MacManus, you have a twin brother named Connor, you like to drink, according to my drunken self you have a savior complex, and you might currently be concussed."

"I could say the same thing about you," he said.

"Really," she said. "Prove it, what do you know about me thus far?"

"Alright," he said. "Your name is Eleanor Braden. You're currently in college and studying journalism, but you aren't really sure about it anymore. You have a bit of an interest in psychology and sociology. You have an older brother named Tyler, an older sister named Julie who's also your best friend, and two younger sisters named Sky and Mabel. You say sorry way more often then you should, although I'm starting to think that's just something you only do when you're drunk, and you're either a depressed drunk or you're way sadder than you let on."

"Oh wow," Ellie said. "I had time to eat an entire turkey and cheese sandwich."

"Okay, I definitely know more about you than you know about me," Murphy admitted. "But it probably doesn't help that you don't remember meeting me at the bar."

"Why?" she said. "Did you spill your whole life story to me right then and there?"

"No," Murphy said.

"I didn't think so," Ellie said. "How about this, lightning round: I ask you a question, and if you don't want to respond you can just say no and I'll drop it."

"Only if I can ask you a question back," he said.

"Then you would still know more about me than I know about you," she pointed out.

"It's the only way I'll play," he said.

"Fine," she said. "We start now. What's your favorite color?"

"Black," he said. "What's yours?"

"Green," she said. "Try to ask a different question than me. Where in Ireland are you from?"

"No," he said. "Why were you at the bar the other night?"

"I don't know, I was drunk," she said. "Have you been to any other states besides Massachusetts?"

"Just New York and Connecticut," he said. "What's your birthday?"

"March 22nd," she said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine," he said. "What's your favorite movie?"

" _Fight Club_ ," she said. "How many girlfriends have you had?"

"Four," he said. "What's your middle name?"

"Lilith," she said. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Chocolate," he said. "What's your favorite candy?"

"Twizzlers," she said. "Have you ever gone to college?"

"I haven't," he said. "What's your favorite kind of pizza?"

"Cheese," she said. "What's your middle name?"

"I thought we couldn't reuse questions," Murphy said.

"You can," Ellie said. "Just not right after I just answered the same question."

"You should've clarified that," he said.

"Just answer the damn question," she said.

"Noah," he said. "Where in Massachusetts are you from?"

"I was born in Springfield," she said. "But I've lived all over the state. My family currently lives in Newton. When's your birthday?"

"May 24th," he said. "How far into college are you?"

"I'm in my senior year," she said. "Is there any real reason why you don't want to tell me what you do?"

"No," he said. "Your sister had to pick you up that night, how did you get to the bar?"

"Like I said, I have no idea," she said. "I think I was drunk  **before**  I got to the bar. As far as I know, I took the bus. Why did you come to America?"

"No," he said. "What's your favorite animal?"

"Birds," she said. "Doesn't matter what kind, I like them all. Why did you call me, because I don't buy that you just wanted to."

"I wanted to call you, I just didn't think I should," he said. "What's your favorite kind of cake?"

"Red velvet," she said. "Why didn't you think you should call me?"

"No," he said. "How many boyfriends have you had?"

"One." She didn't seem to appreciate that question, even though she had just asked several that he didn't appreciate. "How many serious girlfriends have you had?"

"One," he said. "Why are you getting annoyed when you didn't have to answer?"

"Please don't bring that up again," she said. "Please, just don't."

"Alright," Murphy relented. "I won't."

"Good," Ellie said, sounding somewhat relieved. "We're going to have to stop this little game for now, though. I just got to my class and I only have five minutes before it starts."

"Okay," he said. "I won't keep you any longer."

"You know," she said. "You can call me again if you want to. I don't mind. I mean, other than that one question, I really enjoyed this."

"I did, too." Although he knew it was definitely a bad idea, Murphy still wanted to do this again. Yeah, she asked a few questions that he couldn't answer and a few he just plain didn't want to, but most of it was out of genuine curiosity rather than any sort of maliciousness. She just wanted to know more about him, and he wanted to know more about her. Unfortunately, he couldn't let either of those things happen.

"Okay," she said. "So I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Talk to you later," he agreed.

"Bye," she said.

"Bye." He waited until he heard the click indicating that she had hung up to hit the end call button on the phone. He had no idea where the receiver was, so he just put it face down on the floor next to his bed. He thought about continuing to lay in bed for the next few minutes, but to be honest his head hadn't really been bothering him as much as it had before.

Sitting up, he felt some pain in his head, but not as excruciating as it had been for the past few days. Feeling relieved that this headache was finally going away, Murphy just decided to forget about the whole concussion thing. Ellie hadn't looked at him herself and it probably didn't really matter how you did the flashing lights thing. Connor was right the first time, he didn't have a concussion.

Murphy was just beginning to stretch out and stand up when Connor walked out of the bathroom wearing only his jeans and with his hair still wet.

"Hey," Connor said as soon as he noticed his brother was up. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, actually," Murphy replied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, August is a terrible month. That's why I don't endorse it by posting fics.
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 7/31/18.


	4. Knock-Out Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been chapter six.

**November 13th, 2001**

As soon as Murphy started to fall over, Connor caught him and lowered him to the ground as gently as possible. The last thing Murphy probably needed right now was to smash his head again. Looking around, Connor couldn't see anyone or anything that could have possibly harmed his brother that wasn't already dead on the ground, and there were no indications of any physical injury anywhere on his body. However, it was almost completely pitch dark out save for the few dim street lights in the parking lot of the Italian place across the street and the little light given off by the crescent moon. It would be pretty hard to see any blood stains, especially when you also considered that the dark clothing they were both wearing would have further obscured any direct evidence of bleeding.

With a horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach, Connor pressed two of his fingers to Murphy's jugular vein. Relief instantly washed over him when he found that his brother's pulse was nice and strong. A second wave of relief came as he checked Murphy's breathing and determined that he was having no repertory issues. For whatever reason, he just passed out.

It was then he remembered his fears that his brother may have had a concussion the previous day. Those fears hadn't subsided as they went about organizing and planning this mission, even if Murphy slowly began regaining his cogitative abilities through most of the previous day. Connor had expressed concern for Murphy's well-being the entire time, stating that they could wait to get Gaspari when he was feeling more up to it, but Murphy had insisted that he was fine and that they had to do it that night, as they would probably never get an opportunity like this again. Connor knew it was a bad idea, but he agreed anyways, mostly because he knew how badly Murphy wanted to get this guy (as he did too) and that his brother was going to do this whether he liked it or not so he might as well not fight it. Besides, he seemed to be getting better, especially after he got off the phone with that girl from the day before who gave him her number (the bathroom walls were less than a quarter of an inch thick, it'd be hard not to hear a pin drop in the other room) so he just brushed off his earlier concerns and put all his focus on making sure everything went according to plan. It did, for the most part, until Murphy suddenly fainted.

After checking to make sure he was still alive, Connor began to try and rouse Murphy from his unconscious state. He called his name and shook him a few times, which usually worked given that Murphy was the lighter sleeper of the two, but failed to do anything this time. He even tried smacking him once, but all that did was leave a light red mark on his cheek. Connor thought about splashing some cold water from the river on his face, but by that point there were police sirens sounding off in the distance. His only guess was that someone who lived nearby heard the gunfire and called the cops to investigate. With no time to properly ritualize the bodies, Connor picked up his brother, hefted him over his shoulder, and got the hell out of there before any officers showed up.

* * *

**April 21st, 2000**

Ellie was practically skipping as she emerged from hers and Sky's bedroom. The outfit Julie had suggested looked better than she thought it would. There was no way either Anthony or his parents could find a problem with her choice of clothing. At least, that's what she hoped.

As she stepped out into the kitchen, she saw Lori – Tyler, Julie, and Mabel's mother and her and Sky's adoptive mother – standing at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen and looking through a pile of mail. Her black hair was still pinned back and she had yet to change out of her professional attire, indicating that she just got home. Ellie smiled and posed like she was going to be on the cover of  _Vogue_  as she asked the older woman how she looked.

"Very nice," Lori said. "Are you going somewhere tonight?"

"Anthony invited me to have dinner with his parents!" She was absolutely beaming with excitement.

"His parents?" Lori was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I know, right? This is huge!"

"Wow," Lori said. "That's a big step…"

"I know!" Ellie said. "I can't believe this! I think he might propose soon!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lori said. "Wait, what? Did I just hear you say he's going to propose?"

"Well, I don't know that for sure," Ellie said. "He didn't tell me he was going to, obviously, but that's the next big thing, right? Once a guy introduces you to his parents – especially a guy you've been dating for six years – that pretty much means you're on the path to marriage, right? Tell me I'm not wrong here! I can't wait! I mean, they say dreams and fairytales never actually happen, but it's happening right now! I've been waiting for this for so long and now it's finally happening! I can't believe this is happening! I never thought this would happen!"

"Slow down!" Lori said several times in the middle of Ellie's rambling until she finally got the girl's attention. "I can't understand what you're saying at all." When Ellie did shut her mouth, Lori instructed her to take a seat at one of the bar stools. "First thing's first, what time is Anthony supposed to be picking you up?"

"In five minutes," Ellie said. "Why?"

"I'll make it short," Lori said before pausing to think about what she wanted to say. "I think you should think long and hard about deciding to marry Anthony."

"What do you mean?" Ellie appeared confused at Lori's deathly serious tone.

"You're an adult," Lori said. "And you can make your own decisions, but I think you really should consider if you really want to be with Anthony for the rest of your life before you rush into marriage. Even if he doesn't end up proposing, I think this is something you truly do need to consider."

"Why are you asking me this?" Ellie said. "Of course I want to be with Anthony for the rest of my life! I love him! Besides, he'd never let me be with anyone else."

"Did you hear what you just said?" The shocked tone of Lori's voice surprised Ellie.

"What?" Ellie said. "What's wrong with that?"

"You just said he'd never let you be with anyone else." Lori said. "That's disturbing."

"No it's not," Ellie insisted. "That's what every relationship is supposed to be like, right?"

"So I take it, the feeling is mutual?" Lori said. "That's even more disturbing."

"No," Ellie said. "If Anthony left me for someone else…" She got a sick feeling in her stomach before finishing that sentence.

"You would let him?" Ellie nodded. "Ellie, sweetheart, you know I've never really thought that well of Anthony personally, but as a parent I have to look out for your best interest. Once again, I know you are an adult and you can make your own decisions, but I'm asking you to really consider your options here. I don't know what actually goes on in your relationship with him – though I have my suspicions – but that's all that I'm asking of you. Just think about it. Do you really want to be with this boy for the rest of your life?"

Before Ellie could answer that – or even really consider the question – a loud honk could be heard coming from the street in front of the house.

"That's Anthony," she said. "I can't keep him waiting. I have to go." She then slipped the high heels she had been holding onto her feet and rushed out the door, despite Lori's pleas for her to wait. She couldn't wait, though. If she kept Anthony waiting longer than a minute, it wouldn't end well for her.

* * *

**November 14th, 2001**

Ellie woke up, breathing heavily and shaking. Her face was soaked with sweat, and tears were dripping out of her eyes. She felt like throwing up, but she knew it would be pointless. She didn't have much of anything in her stomach to throw up.

Looking over at her roommate, she was grateful to see the other girl fast asleep in her bed. She didn't need her telling the DA for having alcohol when it was prohibited in the dorms. It was then that she remembered that she drank all of her alcohol already. She cursed as she slid out of bed. She didn't have any money to go out and buy another fifth of vodka, and she didn't really want to go looking around for a party that still might be going and still might have booze. (Even though she was on a college campus, it was still two AM on a Thursday morning. Who the hell is partying at two AM on a Thursday morning?) Given that she had no other options; she decided that she needed to get out of there. So, she changed into a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and a sweat shirt and snuck out of her dorm.

She walked to the end of the hall to the dorm that was shared by Katia Davidson and Veronica Dennis. Ellie didn't know either girl personally, but she did know that Katia often times let people who either wanted to slip out for the night past curfew, or sneak back into the dorm use her window – which was connected to the fire escape – and that neither girl would say anything, no matter how suspicious the person was acting. Katia didn't mind being woken up, just as long as the same person didn't keep coming asking to be let in or out. The policy was that once you were out, you had to stay out and vice versa. She wasn't getting in trouble because some idiot just  **had**  to keep running to their car and back.

Knocking on the door, Ellie immediately heard the sound of bed sheets shifting and the slightly annoyed grumbles of an unhappily awoken girl. Katia opened the door, her blonde hair a mess and her eyes bleary.

"Whadaya want?" It came out as a barely coherent groan.

"Can you let me out?" Ellie said, before thinking to add a: "Please?"

"Sure," Katia mumbled. "Come on." Ellie followed Katia to the window, which faced the building's parking lot. Katia opened the window and unhooked the screen from the frame.

"Thank you," Ellie said as she climbed through the window.

"Where are you going?" Katia had to ask that. One time she let a girl out in the middle of the night and the girl gave her no indication as to where she was going. The next day the girl's parents came up for a surprise visit and started asking around for their daughter. When no one could give them a solid answer, the police were called. It turned out that she was safe at her boyfriend's place a few houses down from the school, but still Katia could have gotten in a lot of trouble for that and had to cover her ass in case anyone went missing again. Ellie wasn't sure where she wanted to go; she just knew she needed to get out of there, so she just said the first thing that came to mind.

"I think I'm going to head to the beach," she said.

"The beach?" Katia questioned. "Why? It's freezing out."

"I don't know," Ellie said. "Kind of want to work on my tan." Katia stared at her like she had three heads for several minutes, before deciding to shrug it off.

"You know what, whatever. Suit yourself." She then began to work on putting the screen back into the window while Ellie climbed down the fire escape.

* * *

Connor hadn't gotten a single minute of sleep that night. His head felt heavy and he was practically holding his eyes open, but he didn't care. Although his body desperately wanted to give in to the exhaustion, he wasn't going to sleep until he was certain Murphy was alright.

He gave Murphy a more thorough check over once they got back to their apartment. Murphy hadn't woken up or even stirred once the entire way, and that concerned Connor greatly. The first thing he did was checking his breathing and was once again relieved to find that he was still breathing fine. He then stripped Murphy of his jacket, shirt, and pants and was immensely relieved when he found that his brother wasn't bleeding and didn't have any gunshot wounds that went unnoticed during the fight or when he first passed out.

Despite that, Connor was unsure of what to do after that. It became apparent that Murphy had most likely passed out due to whatever head injury he sustained that night at the bar, but Connor had no idea how to fix that. For all he knew, his brother could have some form of brain damage an absolutely nothing could be done to fix it. The thought of that utterly disturbed him and he tried to push it aside. He decided that the best course of action would be to wait for Murphy to regain consciousness and figure out where to go from there. However, if he didn't wake up by the next morning, he'd have no choice but to take he would have to take him to the urgent care center on West Broadway and hope no one thought anything suspicious about them. That situation wasn't ideal, but he'd risk it if it meant saving his brother's life, and he was beginning to worry that he might have to.

It was around six-thirty in the morning and Connor was almost seconds away from passing out when Murphy finally started to show some signs of coming around. He shifted onto his side and slowly his eyes started to open. The immense relief Connor felt was indescribable.

"Jesus Christ, Murph," Connor said. "You scared the piss out of me."

"Mm," was all Murphy said in response; his eyes didn't seem to be really focusing on anything, just some random spot out in the middle of space. Needless to say, Connor was concerned.

"How are you feeling?" Connor asked. "Does your head still hurt?"

"Mm," Murphy said.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm."

"Do you even understand what I'm saying?"

"Mm."

Connor wasn't sure what to do. Murphy was clearly unresponsive, but he wasn't sure whether or not they should go to the hospital. He was awake, which was definitely an improvement, but at the same time he wasn't coherent and couldn't answer simple questions. That definitely couldn't be good news, and Connor knew that if anything serious had happened to Murphy, it was his fault. He tried to figure out what he should do, but he was so tired that he just couldn't think straight.

At that point, however, Murphy just muttered something that sounded like "tired", pulled the blankets up to his chin, and fell asleep. Connor once again checked to make sure that Murphy was breathing correctly, and when he was satisfied that his brother wasn't likely to die in his sleep, Connor went to his own mattress and got under the covers. Depriving himself of sleep like this wasn't doing anything to help Murphy right now and he'd most likely be able to think of something better once he caught a few hours of sleep. He just hoped that he hadn't messed up too terribly thus far and that Murphy would be okay.

Connor woke up from an uneasy sleep several hours later. His worries about Murphy had followed him into his dreams, and they hadn't at all been pleasant ones. Every single time his brother's life had been in danger just kept flashing through his head; the time he got pushed in front of the swing set; the car accident they were in when they were seventeen; the time his appendix came extremely close to bursting; Murphy being led out the door by those two Russian mobsters; Rocco bleeding out on the floor and Murphy flipping the chair he was bound to on its side just to get close to their friend before he died… All of it just came rushing back and repeating over and over again in Connor's head until he just couldn't take it anymore and forced himself to wake up. He was practically shaking when he did and needed to take a second to compose himself before checking on Murphy again.

Murphy was still breathing when he checked, and this time when he shook him, Murphy woke up. This time, Murphy was more his usual self (as evidenced by the "fuck off" he muttered as he tried to pull the blankets up over his face), which relieved the majority of worries that Connor had built up in his mind.

"I'm taking that to mean you feel better," Connor remarked.

"I feel fine," Murphy lied. "It's just too bright in here."

"Really," Connor said. "You think you're fooling me, Murph? You fainted right after we killed that drug lord and scared me half to death."

"I didn't faint," was the only retort Murphy could come up with and it came out half-grumbled as it was becoming clearer that he was in quite a bit of pain. Connor couldn't help but take the bait, though.

"Yes you did," he said. "You should've seen yourself! You were like a wee schoolgirl!"

Murphy responded by trying to hit Connor's leg (most likely aiming for the scar that was left behind from an earlier bullet wound) but as he shifted around, it was clear he was suppressing a groan of pain. Connor's expression quickly changed back to one of concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No," Murphy admitted this time. "Fuck, my head hurts."

"I think we should go to the hospital," Connor said.

"No, don't," Murphy said quickly, silencing his brother. "My head just hurts. I'll take some Advil. I don't need to go to the hospital."

"Aye, that's worked out well so far," Connor said. "You've been taking Advil for two days and it hasn't done shit. As far as we know, you're concussed."

"I don't have a concussion," Murphy said.

"Need I point out again that you fucking fainted?" Connor asked. Murphy groaned in both annoyance and pain.

"I'm fucking fine," Murphy insisted. "Flash the light in my eyes again if you're not convinced. I'm fine. I just need to sleep this off."

Connor was about to make the argument that attempting to sleep off whatever was wrong with him hadn't worked so far and probably wouldn't just start magically working then when the phone started to ring from where Murphy had left it the night before. That clearly irritated Murphy further as he pulled one of the pillows over his head to cover his ears.

"Oh," Murphy groaned. "Please tell me that's not Ma. I can't deal with her shit over the phone right now."

"Why?" Connor said. "'Cause you know you'll get an earful when she finds out you got hurt and you're too stubborn to go to the freaking hospital?"

"Screw you," was all Murphy could manage to say in response. Connor hit the accept button on the phone, but not before noticing that the number was Massachusetts-based. Unsure of whom it could possibly be calling and wanting to be cautious, Connor Americanized his accent a little when he answered the phone.

"Hello," he said.

"Oh," A woman's voice said on the other end of the line. It was evident in her voice that she had been crying. "Uh, I think I somehow have the wrong number? I'm not sure, I just star-sixty-nined this. Is there a Murphy MacManus there?" Connor instantly realized who it was and was caught between wanting to tease his brother mercilessly for this and a feeling of dread about the conversation he knew they were going to have to have later. Connor decided to indulge in the former though as he told Ellie to wait a minute before holding the phone out to his miserable, pain-riddled brother.

"Your girlfriend's on the phone," he said. "Maybe she can talk some sense into you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just ignore the fact that star-sixty-nine wouldn't work on a cell phone and thank God this isn't the version I ended up publishing.
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 9/3/18.


	5. Jonathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been chapter seven.

April 21st, 2000

Ellie ran across the front yard with her high-heels in hand. Her nylons got wet from the rain that had collected on the grass and as a result little bits of grass and dirt got stuck to them. She mentally kicked herself for doing that. Although a little dirt on her feet would probably be better than running in heels, tripping, and having to go to this dinner with blood gushing down her face, Anthony was sure to notice it and throw in her face how trashy she looked. She knew that comment was going to be inevitable, but still she liked to try to avoid it at all costs.

Running around to the passenger side door, Ellie quickly pulled it open and climbed into the driver's seat. Once inside, she turned to her boyfriend and gave him a sweet smile.

"Hey baby," she said. "What's up?" She became unsettled as his dark brown eyes raked over her entire body with a look of displeasure. "Is something wrong?" She braced for impact.

"You look like a whore," he spat. "God, you're really going to meet my family dressed like that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry." She wanted to keep him calm and appease him as quickly as possible. "I actually thought this was rather modest."

"Modest?" he said. "You look like an absolute tramp! In what world is that modest? That skirt's way to fucking short! Did you think that sweater would cover anything up? What, are you looking to seduce my dad or something? God, you're pathetic!"

"You know what, I'm sorry." Ellie wanted to calm him before this escalated too much. "I can go back in the house and change."

"No," Anthony said. "Fuck it. I'm not going to be late just because you don't know how to fucking dress yourself."

"I'm sorry," Ellie once again apologized as Anthony pulled away from the curb.

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have dressed like that in the first place." Ellie took a deep breath to stay composed and listened to the sound of the windshield wipers sliding across the glass. It was oddly soothing.

She figured that the drive to his parents' home – well, his adoptive parents home as she had no idea what the story was with his birth parents other than the fact that they weren't in the picture at all – would be a short one given that she had asked him to come pick her up at her house several times and he had arrived within minutes. The most she had ever gotten out of him about where he lived was that it was somewhere in Brookline. Other than that, Anthony never talked about his home life at all outside of the occasional grumbles about what "dicks" his parents or adoptive brother were. She had learned early on in their relationship that it was best to steer away from that topic at all costs, which is what made it so strange that he would ask her to come and meet his parents. She was starting to get a sinking feeling in her gut, but she decided to ignore it and reassure herself that everything would be fine. He's going to propose after all, right? That was the most logical reason for doing this, right?

By the time they came to a rotary, Ellie had grown tired of the sounds of windshield wipers and silence and finally lifted up her head to look at Anthony.

"Can you please turn on the radio?" she asked.

"Why?" he said. "We're almost there."

"I just can't take the silence anymore," she said. "Please?" Anthony huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he said. "But don't fuck with the station."

"I won't," she promised as she hit the power button to the radio and music filled the car. She stared out at the passing landscape, giving no thought to the lyrics at all.

"My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I…"

November 14th, 2001

Ellie's mind slowly faded into consciousness. It was nice to awake from one of these dreams without half-jumping out of her skin for once. The only other time that happened was that night when Murphy woke her up at the bar. She began to wonder why this was; however, her thoughts were sidetracked by the sound of her name being called.

It was at that point that Ellie had begun to take in her surroundings. She was clearly on a beach. Where, she didn't know, but she had to be close to campus if she could hear Julie calling her name. Then again, she could also be on a beach in Taiwan and Julie could be calling her all the way from Quincy. Julie not only inherited her looks from her mother, but her voice's tendency to carry.

Looking left and right, she quickly spotted her best friend descending the stairs to a wooden deck that allowed public access to the beach. She looked absolutely frantic as she ran towards her, screaming her name. Ellie then braced herself for the lecture she'd get as she sat up, stretching out her sore limbs and trying to get rid of that uncomfortable crick in her neck.

"Oh thank God!" Julie exclaimed when she saw Ellie moving. She stopped and bent down by her side "I thought you were dead!"

"Nope," Ellie said. "That would be an improvement."

"That's not funny!" Julie swatted Ellie on the shoulder. "When I called your name and you didn't move, I thought I had just found your corpse and I panicked! I was scared you were raped and killed or someone poisoned you and left a cryptic message with your body!"

"Christ, Julie," Ellie grumbled. "You've seen too many Unsolved Mysteries." She then looked down at her right wrist, expecting to see the watch she normally wore there, but was only greeted by the sight of her uncovered tattoo. Panicking for a quick second that some random passerby had stolen her watch while she was asleep, she remembered that she hadn't bothered to put it on when she snuck out of her dorm room and relaxed a bit. "Hey, what time is it by the way?"

"Past noon," Julie informed her.

"Crap!" Ellie punched the sandy ground to punctuate the curse. "I missed my ethics class! Oh shit! Fuck, I'm going to fail now!" She then forced herself to her feet, ignoring the protests of her aching head, neck, and spinal cord. "Fuck, why the hell did I do this?"

"That's a very good question," Julie said. "Why did you do this? When I couldn't find you either at the cafeteria or in your dorm, I panicked. It's a good thing you told Katia where you were going; otherwise I would've called the cops!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Ellie said. "I had a nightmare and I just wanted to get drunk and forget about it, so I came here hoping that there'd be a bonfire or a kegger or something so I could get some booze."

"It's November," Julie pointed out. "Who the hell would be holding a kegger in the middle of the night on the beach when it's twenty degrees out?"

"People who want to enjoy life, Julie," Ellie said. "People who want to enjoy life."

"You're making no sense," Julie said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm absolutely fine," Ellie assured. "I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?" It took a few seconds of Ellie glaring at her for Julie to figure out what she meant. "Oh, you mean about Anthony?" Ellie nodded. "Has he tried to contact you?"

"No," Ellie said firmly.

"Are you scared he's going to come after you?" Julie asked. "Because if you are, sneaking out at night probably isn't the best idea…"

"Nah, it's not that." Ellie ran her fingers through her hair as she searched, either for the right words to say or the courage to say them. "I keep having dreams about that night. I mean so far I've been able to wake up before it got too bad, but knowing how everything goes down in the end, it only makes the lead-up more foreboding, you know?"

"Ellie, I really think you need to talk to someone about this – a professional," Julie said just as Ellie was about to interrupt her. "I know you saw one just after it happened, but you haven't been back since and you have to admit you haven't been dealing with this in the healthiest of ways."

"I'm dealing with it just fine," Ellie said.

"Going out and getting drunk every time you have a nightmare isn't going to solve anything," Julie said. "It's just going to turn into an addiction that's going to get worse and worse until you self-destruct. You're better than that, Ellie. You're stronger than that, and if you keep on doing this, you're just letting Anthony win." Ellie just rolled her eyes.

"I didn't get drunk, but whatever," she said. "Let's just go back to campus. I want to shower and get all this sand out of my hair." She then turned and started back towards the wooden deck.

"Fine," Julie said as she fell into step beside her. "I'm not going to press it right now, but you know we're going to have to have this conversation at some point."

"Yes, mom," Ellie said. "You can rest assured though that I'm not going to fall asleep on a beach again. I think I have sand up my nose."

"Well, you deserve it," Julie said. "Giving me a freaking heart attack, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Everything I said before and more," Ellie said. "Like I just said, I don't really want to talk about this anymore, so let's just go back."

"Fine," Julie said. "Sorry, I'm just worried."

"Well, don't do that," Ellie said. "You're freaking annoying when you're worried."

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Julie said. "So is there anything else that's bothering you?"

"Nope," Ellie lied. "Nothing's bothering me."

"Have you heard from that guy yet?" Julie asked. "What's his name again?" It took Ellie a few seconds longer that it probably should have to figure out who she was talking about.

"Oh, Murphy," Ellie said. "He called me last night-"

"Seriously," Julie exclaimed before Ellie could say anything else. "Oh my God, what did he say? Did he sound into you? Are you going to go out with him? Details! I need details!"

"Alright, now you're the one who needs to calm down," Ellie laughed, but her smile quickly faded. "We didn't talk much. Just the normal getting to know you stuff. I don't think he was really that into me, though. He sounded tired. Well, I mean he said he had just woken up but still…"

"What time did he call you?" Julie asked.

"Around five," Ellie said.

"That's weird," Julie said. "Who's only just waking up at five?"

"I think he hurt himself or something," Ellie said. "He was also complaining about symptoms that sounded similar to a concussion."

"So a guy calls you up at five o'clock at night having just woken up with a concussion to just talk about random shit," Julie said. "Lovely."

"Hey, you're the one who encouraged me to give a random guy on the street my number," Ellie pointed out. "So you shouldn't say shit."

"Yeah, I guess," Julie said.

"Besides," Ellie said. "Despite the odd nature of the phone call, I did enjoy talking to him."

"You did?" Ellie didn't like the bizarre look her friend was giving her.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "It was just rather easy. I mean, I talked to him about stuff that I wouldn't normally talk to someone about in a first conversation."

"Really," Julie's look of concern quickly changed to a playful smirk. "Like what?"

"Good God!" Ellie brought her hands up to cover her face. "Get your mind out of the gutter! Nothing like that! We just talked about life and stuff…"

"Mm-hmm," Julie said. "Sure you did."

"Shut up," Ellie grumbled. Julie laughed in response.

As soon as they were back on campus, Ellie immediately started making a beeline for her dorm building. Her hair was so greasy it was starting to annoy her and the sand running all through it only made things worse. Julie kept yelling for her to slow down, but Ellie didn't care. She just wanted to wash herself of all of this horribleness before she had to get to her next class.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. As she approached the entrance to Williamson, she saw a man standing there that she didn't recognize. She was about to brush it off as some guy waiting for his girlfriend to let him in. When he started to come towards her, though, she was proven wrong.

"Hello," The man said, making Ellie stop in her tracks. "I'm looking for an Eleanor Braden. Is she around?"

"I'm Eleanor Braden," she said. "Why? Who are you?" The man then reached into his coat pocket or something. She quickly observed that he was older than her. He was still young, but definitely not college-aged. He was probably less than two inches taller than her (and considering she was 5'6", that put him a little on the short side) and it looked like despite his best efforts to tame his short hair, it was still extremely unruly with random curls sticking up in random places. His dark eyes remained trained on her as he pulled out his badge, showing her his identification.

"My name is FBI Agent Jonathan Stokes," he said. "I'm here to ask you a few questions about your boyfriend, Anthony Costello."

The world fell silent. Her heart stopped beating. The atmosphere disappeared and all the oxygen flew off into the endless vacuum of space, leaving all life on Earth to asphyxiate to death. The oceans dried up. The sun went supernova and then there was nothing left to prove that there was any ever any existence at all. She was being overly dramatic, but all of that stuff might have well have happened for all the horror that one statement instilled in her soul.

"What?" She said softly, trying to keep a deer-in-headlights look from appearing on her face.

"It's just a few questions," The agent assured. "It won't take too long." Ellie nodded just as Julie caught up to them.

"Christ you're way too fast for me," Julie huffed, putting her hands on her knees. When she looked up, she took notice of the other person standing there and quickly stood straight. "I'm sorry, who is this?" Before Ellie could say anything, Agent Stokes held up his ID and extended his other hand to Julie.

"FBI Agent Jonathan Stokes," He said as Julie shook his hand. "I just want to ask Miss Braden here a few questions."

"I'm her sister, Julie," she said. "Does this have to do with Anthony? Have you found him?"

"I just want to ask her a few questions," Stokes repeated.

"Well, can I come with her?" Ellie immediately let out a breath of relief.

"No, I'd rather talk to her alone." Then she immediately sucked it back in.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Julie asked when she saw Ellie's pleading eyes. "The whole experience was rather traumatic for her. She's still having trouble talking about it. Don't you think it'd be better for her to have a familiar face nearby?"

"No," Stokes said. "I'd rather this be a one-on-one thing."

"Okay then," Julie said as she turned back to Ellie. "Are you going to be okay on your own?"

No! She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout every swear word in the book and stamp her feet on the ground until this guy went away, but she was an adult, not a toddler. She could sit and answer a few questions like a big girl. It was no big deal, just stuff she'd been through already.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she said. Julie nodded.

"Kay," she said. "I'll be in my dorm 'till three if you need me."

"Alright," Ellie said. "See you later."

"See you."

Ellie turned back to the FBI Agent, hoping her face didn't show the fear in her heart.

"Is there anywhere we can sit down?" he asked.

"There's tables and chairs in the lobby," Ellie said. "We can talk there."

"That sounds acceptable," he said. "Lead the way."

Ellie slid her card into the slot that unlocked the door. She didn't spend too much time in the lobby. On the rare occasions she wanted to be social she usually went somewhere off campus or the cafeteria. It was a nice little set up. They had high-top chairs and tables, leather couches, and a rather nice television set which was currently displaying the latest episode of Days of Our Lives since no one had apparently bothered to change it since the local news was switched on this morning. There was also a small little café that sold coffee and muffins and other little treats throughout the day, but she and Julie found it to be overpriced considering the quality of their products and just went off campus for Dunkin' Donuts instead.

Selecting the first available high-top table she saw, Ellie sat down and tried to reassure herself that everything was okay. He just wanted to ask a few questions; get an idea of what happened straight from the source. Once heard everything, he would probably leave her alone. At least, that's what she hoped.

"So, Eleanor," he said. "Can I call you Eleanor or do you prefer something else?"

"Eleanor's fine," she said.

"Right," he said. "So anyways, as I have said before my name is Agent Jonathan Stokes. I'm taking over the Anthony Costello case from Agent Miller, whom you've met before."

"I see," she said. "If you don't mind my asking, why has Agent Miller left the case?"

"There were, ah, more pressing matters to be attended to," he said.

"Something to do with September 11th?" she asked.

"It's an all hands on deck situation," he said.

"I can imagine," she said. That sucked. She liked Agent Miller, and she knew how to get out of having to say too much. He felt sympathetic for her and if she sobbed hard enough, he'd end the interview before the questions got too hard to answer, like "What happened after you ran into the woods?" and "Do you know where Anthony is now?" She hadn't even spoken to this man for five minutes and she could already tell that this wouldn't be the case.

"So, since I'm taking over the case, I just want to get a general idea of the man we're searching for," Stokes said. "And I thought who better to ask then the only person alive who knew him best. So, what can you tell me about Anthony Costello?"

That was easy enough, but Eleanor still found herself swallowing hard before beginning to speak.

"He was adopted," She started. "We both were. That's how we met actually, at a teen night event for children of adoption. He was sixteen, I was fourteen. We kind of started dating very soon after that. I don't know much about his life before he was adopted. I don't know anything about his birth parents, but from what I understand he was bounced around in the system for a long time before he was finally adopted."

"How was your relationship with him?" Stokes asked,

"It was…" She searched for the right word. "It was strained, a lot of the time."

"Was he abusive towards you?" She nodded. "In what ways was he abusive?"

"He was controlling," she mumbled. "He was always trying to manipulate me in some way."

"How was he manipulative?" he asked.

"He did a lot of shit just to get me to do what he wanted," she explained, actively fighting against the urge to cry. "He'd lie to me. He'd belittle me until I said yes to something I didn't want. He'd threaten me. He'd threaten my family. One time I tried to walk away from an argument and he threatened to kill himself by running into traffic if I didn't come back."

"Had he ever threatened to kill himself before that incident?" he asked.

"Never seriously," she said. "A few times after he got into an argument with his parents – his adoptive parents – he said stuff like 'I bet they wouldn't even cry if I killed myself', but I didn't give that any merit. That was the first time I legitimately thought he would actually go through with it."

"When was this?" he asked.

"It was the weekend before St. Patrick's Day in '99," she said.

"That's pretty specific," Stokes remarked.

"Well, it was just before half the criminals in Boston started dropping like flies, so it was kind of easy to remember." She made that explanation sound like it made the most sense in the world, but Stokes still stared at her, for the first time showing something other than pleasant cordiality; perplexity. He was quick to wipe the look off his face as he proceeded on with his questions.

"So this was a year before the incident took place." She confirmed this. "He showed no sign of violence before this."

"Well, no." Ellie's gaze drifted back downwards.

"Had he been violent with you as well as manipulative?" She nodded. "Did he physically hit you or harm you in any way?" She nodded again. "Had he been forceful with you in any other way?"

"Forceful?" Her face scrunched in confusion.

"Had he ever tried to rape or sexually assault you?" The agent tried to word that in the gentlest way possible, but it still a deep chord with Ellie. In her mind, no, she had never been raped. Even if she didn't want to have sex with him, she never outright said no or fought back. She just gave in and appeased him. Although some would definitely see it differently, she fully consented every single time she had slept with Anthony, even if he was a little rough with her. However, it still struck a fear in her worse than the end of the world, so she remained silent. "You don't have to answer the question if you don't want to," Stokes finally relented after a long moment of silence. "I'm just trying to get a clearer picture of what this man is capable of. Anything you can give me will be helpful." Ellie still remained silent. "Alright, I'll consider that a 'possibly', sound good?" Ellie weakly nodded and he quickly moved on. "You indicated he had a strained relationship with his adoptive parents as well, can you elaborate on that?"

"Yeah," she said. "He never got along with them."

"Why is that?" Stokes asked.

"He always complained that he thought they treated their biological son better than they treated him." That was putting it in the politest of terms.

"Did they do that?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she admitted. "I just know what he told me, and what he told me wasn't good… It very well all could've been bullshit, though. In fact, it probably was. He said bullshit all the time, though, so that wouldn't be anything new."

"What did he say about his adoptive parents, specifically?" he asked.

"Well, like I said, he said they treated their own son better than him," she said. "He said they argued a lot, his dad yelled at him, took his car away once…"

"Did he ever accuse his adoptive parents of abuse?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I never saw any marks on him, though. No cuts, no scratches, no bruises, no nothing."

"Did he ever outright state that the abuse was physical?" Stokes asked.

"Yeah, he said his dad hit him a few times after they got into a fight," she said. "But I didn't see any marks on him, so I didn't give it any credence. I know very well that if you hit somebody, it leaves marks." Tears were brimmed her eyes. It wasn't even an act to stop talking at this point it was really getting hard to speak.

"Did he ever indicate that either of his adoptive parents sexually abused him?" She shook her head no. She knew what was coming and she just wanted to get on with it. "Did you ever meet his parents before the night of Friday, April 21st, 2000?" There it was. They were finally starting to tentatively broach the subject of that night. Ellie was glad she had next to nothing on her stomach as waves of nausea rolled through.

"No," she said with a shaky voice.

"Had you ever been to their residence before?" Stokes asked.

"No." The memories were coming back at full-force now. If she didn't throw up, it would be a miracle. As if sensing her distress (or rather seeing it plain as day on her face), Agent Stokes' face softened and gave her a bit of reassurance.

"Eleanor," he said. "I don't plan on making you relive what happened at that house. We already know for a fact what happened in that house. I'm just trying to get a clearer picture of the man we're searching for, but to do that, you've got to help me, and to help me I just need to ask you three questions, can you answer them for me?"

Ellie was quiet for a long time before she responded, "What are the questions?"

"Why did Anthony leave you alive?" Ellie remained silent for several minutes before Stokes finally gave up and moved on to the next one. "How did you end up and Quincy Quarries?" Once again, she was silent and he had no choice but to move on. "Do you know where Anthony Costello is now?" Still there was nothing but silence.

It felt like a good fifteen minutes went by like that, in complete and utter silence. Ellie had a hard time containing everything inside her as each agonizing second passed. Eventually, Stokes decided to speak up again.

"Are you familiar with the works of Arthur Miller?" Ellie's face scrunched up in confusion.

"No," she said, unsure of where this was going.

"He was a playwright and a major figure in twentieth-century American theater," Stokes explained. "One of his first works was a play called All My Sons. It's about a man who sold cracked cylinder heads to the army in World War II, resulting in numerous plane crashes and the deaths of twenty-one pilots. For years he tried to hide his involvement in the sales, but eventually the truth came out."

"What does this have to do with anything?" Ellie gripped the sides of her chair tightly.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just interesting, the moral and ethical dilemmas of the world – whether in real life or in fiction. A lot of times, good people do bad things for good reasons. For example, the man in the play I was talking about justified his actions as not selling the cracked cylinder heads would've meant the closure of his factory, and he needed to make money for his family. Of course, that doesn't make what he did right, but it's understandable why he did it, is it not?"

"I'm still not getting the point." She was starting to clearly show signs of her struggle to keep her composure. She could feel shivers running through her whole body and sweat collecting on her brow. She wanted to say it, she really wanted to say it, but she couldn't. What was the one thing stopping her? It was fear; pure unadulterated fear and it was beginning to strangle her.

"Have you ever done anything wrong for a reason you thought was right?" Stokes finally flat-out asked her.

"I'm sure I have," she responded. "But who hasn't?"

"Are you doing something you know is wrong?" he asked. "Are you trying to justify it by telling yourself you're doing it for the right reasons?"

Once again, there was a long period of silence between them. It was so long, that Ellie thought it might be endless and she'd be left to hold herself together by the skin of her teeth for the rest of eternity. Eventually, Stokes just reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, and placed it in front of her. Picking it up, Ellie saw that it contained his contact information.

"Look, I can't spend the whole day sitting here having a staring contest with you," he said. "But if at any point you have information that might be pertinent to my investigation, please call me any time at the number listed." Ellie nodded and he held out his hand for her to shake. "I'd like to thank you for your time and cooperation." Ellie nodded again as he shook his hand. "It was nice meeting you, Eleanor."

As he turned his back to her and began to walk away, Ellie couldn't help but ask, "What happened to him? The man in that play you were talking about, did he go to jail or… What happened?" The agent didn't even turn to look back at her as he gave his response.

"I think you should look that up for yourself."

Ellie ran all the way back to her dorm, only stopping at points where she was required to swipe her key-card. When she got there, she collapsed in the middle of the room and began to scream bloody murder. The action had startled Zara, who Ellie hadn't taken notice of when she entered.

"What the fuck?" Zara screamed. "Are you trying to kill me by inducing a panic attack, you banshee?"

"Oh, bite me you fucking bitch!" Ellie's throat felt raw but she continued screaming. "Just get the fuck out of here!"

"You can't make me leave!" Zara protested. "This is my dorm room, too!" Ellie's only response was to cover her ears, bury her face in her knees, and continue screaming. Zara eventually screamed that she should go fuck herself before storming out of the dorm, leaving the door wide open on her way out.

Ellie continued to scream until her voice gave out and she was forced to fall into a sobbing fit in the middle of the room. After things had been quiet for a few minutes, curious neighbors began to peak their heads into the room, most likely just wondering what happened and whether or not she was alright. Ellie didn't take notice of them, though and continued to sob into her knees. She was jerked out of it, though, when she felt a hand softly touch her shoulder. She turned to see Katia crouching down next to her, looking like she was slightly annoyed but tried to cover that up. Ellie narrowed her eyes at her.

"Are you okay?" Ellie pushed the other girl's hand off her shoulder.

"I don't need you touching me." Katia rolled her eyes.

"But are you okay?" she said. "For God's sake, the way you were screaming, it sounded like you were getting raped."

"Really," Ellie said. "It sounded like I was getting raped so all of you just gathered around to watch? Thank you so much. That really makes me feel safe."

"Oh, go screw yourself." Katia extended her middle finger to her as she and the other girls began to clear out of the room. Ellie had no regrets in that moment. Every single person on campus could hate her if they wanted to; they probably should. She didn't care. It didn't matter anyways. Her life was completely and utterly destroyed at this point, because he knew. That God damn FBI Agent knew exactly what happened that night and exactly what she did, and if he knew, she was horrible danger, because Anthony would find out; if Anthony found out… She couldn't imagine what would happen.

Once again struck with the sudden urge to run, Ellie quickly grabbed her cell phone from where it was charging on her night stand and made a mad dash for the door. Running out of the building, down the street, past Gardner Hall and the library, and out of the front gate of the building, Ellie only came to a stop when she slammed into someone's parked Prius. Groaning at her own stupidity, the pain in her chest and knee from slamming into the car, and the fact that it's alarm went off, only further adding to her embarrassment, she began to think about where the hell she could possibly go.

Deciding to just go out to the main road and find a random bus stop, Ellie tried to take her mind off of her likely impending doom. It was hard, given the circumstances, but the first thing that came to mind when she finally did was how much she enjoyed talking to Murphy the day before. She didn't know why, but even when their conversation became strained she still wanted to continue talking to him. It was strange, but that only made her want to talk to him more. Not about this, though. She'd never be able to speak of what happened that night to anyone ever. She didn't want to and she hoped she never had to, although the probability of that actually happening was shrinking by the second. Still, though, she wanted to talk to Murphy.

Halfway down the street, Ellie pulled out her cell phone and went through her call logs to find the last number that called her. Hitting the little green call button on her phone, she brought it to her ear and waited for someone to answer.

"Hello." Her brow knitted in confusion at the unfamiliar voice. She must have misdialed, but that wasn't possible as she called straight from her call logs. It should've connected her to Murphy, right? She wasn't sure though.

"Oh," she said. "Uh, I think I somehow have the wrong number? I'm not sure, I just star-sixty-nined this. Is there a Murphy MacManus there?" She heard a short exchange on the other end of the line, with the clearest part being "dafaq you mean my girlfriend?" coming from a voice that sounded like Murphy's. After about a minute of conversation, she heard a gruff "Hello?" on the other end.

"Hi, Murphy?" she said. "It's Ellie."

"Oh, hi." He sounded tired and pained, she immediately felt guilty for calling him. "How did you get this number?"

"I just redialed the last number called on my phone," she said. "Why, did you not want me calling you?" She felt a pang of anxiety run through her chest.

"No, it's not that it's just… Why are you calling anyway?" She didn't want to say, now that she could hear how annoyed he sounded. He probably hated her.

"Nah, I was just…" She swallowed hard before forcing herself to tell the truth. "I was just wondering if we could meet up or something."

"Meet up?" he said.

"Yeah…" she said. "I mean, I need to get away for a minute and I'd rather not be alone. Is there any place we can meet up?"

"I'm not feeling the best right now," he said. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere today."

"Oh, well I can go to your place then." Ellie immediately wanted to jump in front of the nearest car. You can't just invite yourself over to people's houses! That's incredibly rude.

"I'm not sure that's the best idea…" He sounded very hesitant. She knew she shouldn't have said that. However, her mouth must have thought differently.

"I mean, if you're really not up for it, that's okay," she said. "I just… I'm not having the best of days and I really don't want to be alone right now. I don't feel safe."

Then go find Julie! Some part of her brain screamed at her, but another part chimed in with. If you go to Julie, you'll end up telling her. Then Anthony will know, and if Anthony knows…

"Okay," he said.

"What?" Ellie said, unsure if she heard him right.

"I'd have to clean up some things around here," he said. "But if you don't feel safe where you are, I kind of don't really have a choice."

"Okay, thank you." She felt guilty for phrasing it that way and basically forcing him to invite her over to his house, but at the same time, she didn't. She needed to forget about the situation entirely and if she went to Julie, she wouldn't be able to do that. "So, where do you live?"

Murphy gave her directions to his and Connor's apartment and they hung up shortly thereafter. Getting on the first bus bound for South Boston, Ellie both hoped she didn't do something too bad by inviting herself over and berated herself for doing something that was bad that was long since over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, if you don't have the motivation to write something, just don't write it.
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 9/21/18.


	6. The Kill Your Family Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family!

**November 14th, 2001**

As soon as Murphy hung up the phone with Ellie, the two brothers immediately sprang into action (despite Murphy still being in pain) and began to search for places where they could hide anything and everything incriminating. The entire time Connor cussed Murphy out for giving their address to someone he barely knew, while Murphy defended himself by saying she was practically crying on the phone and wouldn't let the issue go; he had no choice but to cave in to her demands. Although he hated to admit it, Connor knew that Murphy was probably right about that. When he picked up the phone, Ellie sounded beyond hysterical and it was definitely hard to say no to a woman when she's like that. Still, he shouldn't have given out their address. Even if she wasn't the type to go around handing it out to every single piece of lowlife scum in the city, if someone figured out who they were and where they lived and saw her coming in or out of the place, they could easily connect her to them and that would put her in danger. However, what's done is done and Connor knew he probably shouldn't waste his time and energy on the subject, especially when his brother was still sick.

Although in a way their new apartment was a step up from the old one – given that the bathroom was actually a separate room and they had an actual kitchen space, even if they never used it – there were still some drawbacks. One of them was that it was about half the size of the illegal loft housing they lived in before and not too many places to easily hide things if they needed to. It was a small downside, but at the time the upsides of the apartment outweighed the downsides. Particularly that the neighbors weren't nosey at all and nor was the scum-lord that ran the place; they had fire escape access from the one window, giving them an alternate route to escape through if the cops or any random scumbag showed up at the door; and the fact that it was out of the snow and cold during one of the worst storms the city of Boston had experienced that winter all made it easy for the brothers to decide to take the apartment and move in as quickly as possible. Who knew death from exposure was a great motivator to make impulse housing decisions?

Although the apartment lacked adequate storage space, what it didn't lack was heating vents (even if no actual heat ever came out of them) and, thankfully, those heating vents were large enough to hold everything they had in their duffle bags (including Connor's "stupid fucking rope") and could be accessed easily with a few turns of a screwdriver. All they had to do was shove everything inside and hope to dear God that for whatever reason Ellie wouldn't take it upon herself to investigate their vents; a scenario of which was unlikely but the MacManus brothers knew all too well that the unlikely was always plausible.

Once that was all sorted away, Murphy climbed back into bed, pulling the blankets over his eyes to block out the light. Connor would have continued cussing his brother out if it wasn't for the fact that Murphy was probably still in quite a bit of pain from his head injury. Even though he knew he probably shouldn't at this point, Connor couldn't help but feel slightly bad for his brother. Only slightly, though. He still brought this whole situation upon himself by not going to see a doctor when he probably should have and by telling that girl where they lived, but at the same time Murphy was still his brother and Connor couldn't help but have some sympathy for him, especially when he was surely in an intense amount of pain. Connor messed up the exposed bit of Murphy's hair that was sticking out from under the blanket and told his brother that he was going to watch for his "girlfriend" out the window in the front hallway and that he'd get him when she arrived.

Connor wasn't exactly mad at Murphy for inviting her over. In fact, he was more worried. If he was out of it enough to do something as stupid as that, then there was definitely something wrong with him. Connor just hoped that it wasn't anything too serious.

As he waited for this girl to arrive, Connor lit a cigarette and kept an eye on the street below. He didn't get too good of a look at her the day before, but he did notice she had dark hair, glasses, and was around average height for a woman. He figured that might be enough to make a positive identification from a distance. Alright, she could be practically anyone wandering around the streets below, but then again he figured that any chick matching that vague description and who looked like she didn't belong there probably was her. After all, this neighborhood wasn't the most happening hangout spot for college students in their early twenties.

It was about half an hour before he saw a girl walk up, holding a scrap of paper and shifting her gaze between that and the direction of the front door. Although she was dressed drastically differently than she did when they met the other day and she wasn't wearing her glasses, Connor was fairly certain that this was the right girl. He rushed down four flights of stairs and opened the heavy metal door for her.

Having gotten closer, Connor saw details he missed when he was observing her from above. Mostly, that her dark hair was pulled back and had copious amounts of sand in it and along with her clothes being covered with the stuff as well, her eyes were pink and her cheeks were stained with tears. She looked like she got in a fight with a sand dune and the sand dune kicked her ass harder than it had ever been kicked before. However, it was very clear that this was the same girl they had met at that bus stop two days ago. She instantly looked up at him when he opened the door and there was a clear spark of recognition in her green eyes.

"Are you Ellie?" He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear her confirm it.

"Yeah," she affirmed and took a step closer. "You're Murphy's brother, right?"

"Connor," he provided when it became clear that she didn't remember his name. She moved so she was standing in front of the opened doorway and held out her right hand to him. He took it and shook it.

"Nice to meet you Connor," she said. "Well, I mean, I met you already… You get the sentiment. Where's Murphy?"

"He's upstairs," Connor said.

"Is he okay?" She asked. "He sounded kind of out of it both times I talked to him on the phone. Well, I mean I wouldn't know, but he didn't sound right. Is he okay?"

"For the most part, aye," he said as he scratched the back of his head. "He hit his head the other day, so that's probably why…" Plus the added exertion from killing eighteen people in one night probably didn't help either.

"He told me about that," Ellie said. "Has he seen a doctor yet?"

"Nah," Connor said. "He's a stubborn little shit; refuses to go, says he just needs to sleep it off."

"Is he crazy?" she said. "You can't 'sleep off' a concussion."

"Try telling Murph that," he said.

"Oh, I will." She started to make a move to walk straight past him into the building, but Connor put a hand on her shoulder and gently prevented her from going forward. "Can you let me by – please?"

"I just want to ask you a few questions first," Connor said.

"Okay?" Ellie sounded hesitant.

"Why did you call my brother?" He quickly noticed how taken off guard she was by that question.

"I honestly don't know," she said. "I guess I just liked talking to him and wanted to see him? Why what's the problem?"

"Alright," Her answer sounded genuine enough. "Why are you covered in sand and crying?"

"Is that any of your business?" Now she was starting to sound defensive.

"If it affects my brother, yeah," Connor said. "Especially when he's in a state like he is now." Something clicked in her mind at that moment as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Listen," she said. "I get that you're being protective – I have two younger sisters and if some strange man invited himself over to our house just to see one of them you'd be damned sure I'd be interrogating the pants off his ass – but I swear to God I don't intend on doing anything to hurt him. I know that inviting myself over was kind of a wrong and desperate move, but I've had a shit day and I don't really want to be around anyone I know right now. It's all personal shit and I'd rather not think about it or talk about it right now, but it's nothing that could affect or hurt you or your brother. I just want to forget everything for five minutes, okay. I'm really sorry for all this."

Connor gave her a skeptical look as he gave her the once-over again. Nothing in her body language really suggested she was lying. She didn't seem standoffish or demanding. She was definitely desperate, though, and maybe a little afraid, too. Still, Connor was somewhat hesitant to let her in. Not only did neither of them have any idea who this girl was, but if she somehow got hurt because she had associated herself with them, then it would be their fault. However, the layer of sand coating her entire body and the fact that the whites of her eyes were a bright shade of red only testified to the legitimacy of her "shit day" and knowing that Murphy was having one of those himself, Connor couldn't help but think that this was something they could both use right now. While he came to a decision, he realized there was still one more question he wanted to ask her.

"Why are you covered in sand?"

"I slept on the beach." Ellie shrugged.

"Why?" Connor said. "Don't you have somewhere to stay?"

"Yeah," She said. "I usually stay in my dorm, but I couldn't sleep last night so I decided to walk to the beach and back. By the time I got to the beach I was too tired and lazy to walk back, so I just slept on the beach. I probably should've taken a shower first before I came here, though." Connor still continued to give her a puzzled look. "What? There's nothing wrong with sleeping on the beach. Hippies in California do it all the time."

"Weren't you worried about getting attacked or mugged or something?" Connor questioned.

"No," she said. "I've had worse done to me."

Although those words came out in a deadpan tone, there was a slight ominous undertone to it that scared Connor a little bit. Mostly because it sounded like she meant them. He really hoped that what he did next wouldn't come back around to bite him and Murphy.

"Alright," Connor relented. "You can come upstairs. Just be warned that the place is a bit of a mess and my brother can be a stubborn prick when he's sick. Well, he's always a stubborn prick, but it's worse when he's sick."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," Ellie said. "I'm from a family of seven. I'm used to dealing with stubborn pricks."

_Well, shit._  Connor thought. It had always been him, Ma, and Murphy back when he and his brother were growing up in Ireland and just him and Murphy once they came to the States. He couldn't imagine having that many people around all the time.

"Well, if you think you can handle it…" Connor said.

"Oh, I can," Ellie assured.

"Then follow me." He then stepped inside of the building and allowed Ellie to come inside as well. The metal door shut with a loud clang as they began to ascend the stairs. Although there were large windows on each end of the hall on the subsequent floors, the ground floor had no windows at all and the hall lights were dimly lit at best, so they had to be careful and watch their steps as they traversed the first set of stairs. "We're on the fifth floor, first door on the left." Connor explained as they climbed.

"Okay." It sounded like she was more concerned about where she was stepping than what he was saying, though. He heard her let out a sigh of relief when they made it to the second floor landing and visibility became much better.

"Just so you know, the place isn't really much to look at," Connor said. "It's just a small one-room apartment. It's cluttered beyond all hell and it's a miracle that we had enough space to fit both our beds."

"Not a big deal," Ellie said. "Although I can't guarantee that I won't suddenly feel the compulsive need to clean it all up." There was a moment of silence as they reached the top of the second set of stairs and rounded the corner to go up the next flight. "So, what's up with this whole sickness thing? I mean, Murphy sounded kind of out of it last night but nowhere near as bad as he did when I called earlier."

"Well, that depends," Connor said. "What did he say about it earlier?"

"He said some asshole knocked him out," she said. "And ever since he's had nothing but terrible headaches, confusion, and dizziness. I told him that it sounded like he probably had a concussion and that he should get to a doctor ASAP."

That felt like a slap onside the head. Concussion was the first thing Connor thought when he noticed Murphy's strange behavior just a few days before, but he dismissed it just because a stupid light trick didn't work. Now Murphy was paying the price for his mistake. Why didn't he rethink it? Why didn't he force Murphy to see a doctor? If a complete stranger could recognize that something was wrong with Murphy better than his own brother could, then he wasn't much of a brother, was he?

"So has he gone yet?" Connor was so deep in his mental bereavement, that he forgot that Ellie was even there, let alone what she was talking about.

"What?" His eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"To the doctor," she clarified. "Has he gone?"

"No," Connor said. "Like I said, Murph's a stubborn prick when he's sick. I've tried to convince him to go, but he just won't listen. He says he just needs to sleep it off, like it's a bad hangover or something."

"Really," Ellie said. "He's been sleeping it off and it hasn't worked?"

"No, not at all," Connor said.

"That's weird," Ellie said as they reached the top of the last set of stairs. "Normally rest is supposed to make a concussion better."

"Well, he hasn't been resting the entire time…" Connor admitted.

"What do you mean?" They came to a stop in front of the door to his and Murphy's apartment. Connor was quiet as he tried to figure out the best way to explain what happened the previous night while leaving certain details out, such as the fact that they were out murdering seventeen mafia-related individuals.

"Uh," he said. "We were kind of working, and he just kind of fainted."

"Fainted?" she questioned.

"Aye," he said.

"What were you doing that would cause him to faint?" He didn't have an immediate answer for that and he could feel her gaze scrutinizing him as he tried to come up with a plausible explanation.

"Lifting," he finally said. "We were lifting some stuff and then Murphy fainted."

"What the hell were you lifting;  _the Titanic_?" Connor tried to sound as genuine as he could while he laughed off that response.

"We might as well have been." To that, she just rolled her eyes.

"Alright, don't tell me," she said. She began to look nervous as she turned her attention towards the door. "Should I just go in or should I just leave, considering…"

"Go on in," Connor said. "Seriously lass, Murphy's not going to bite you."

He heard her mutter "oh please," and something else he couldn't quite make out but he was fairly certain he heard the words "take a punch" in there. He asked her to repeat herself, but she acted like she didn't say anything before opening the door. For whatever reason, she just wanted to keep that remark to herself and he wasn't going to press it.

Ellie took a hesitant step inside of the apartment. She looked as if she were a terrified gazelle stepping into a lion's den, and the fact that the room was completely dark probably didn't help that imagery. Connor stepped around her and over to the large, wide window that was just behind their beds. Flicking the blinds open, he heard a groan come from below him and turned to see Murphy pulling another blanket over his face in an attempt to block out the feeble amount of light being put out by the sun through the overcast sky. Connor grabbed the blankets and quickly pulled them off the bed and away from Murphy's face. Murphy groaned out something along the lines of "what the fuck"?

"Alright," Connor said. "I think you've gotten enough rest there, sleeping beauty. Your girlfriend's here."

That caught Murphy's attention. He lifted his head to look past Connor and over at Ellie. She was still standing in the doorway, but didn't look as much like a scared gazelle anymore. In fact, it looked more like she was trying to hide the fact that she was staring at Murphy's bare chest. She was failing, though; as it was pretty clear she liked what she saw. Murphy didn't notice that, however, as he sat up. He brought a hand up to his head as he looked around for a shirt to put on. He had put some pants on as soon as he got off the phone with her earlier.

"Shit!" Murphy found a dark gray t-shirt on the floor and pulled it on over his head. It wasn't clear if it was his or Connor's, but it wasn't like either brother cared. "I thought I told you to wake me up!"

"I did wake you up," Connor said. "Just now!"

"I meant wake me up  **before** you let her inside," Murphy said.

"Does it even really matter?" Ellie took a few tentative steps into the room. For the most part she didn't seem afraid anymore, but with each step she looked like she was half-expecting them to change their minds and throw her out. "I mean I'm here now. It's not like it really makes a difference."

"I guess," Murphy conceded. Ellie took this as all the permission she needed to quicken her pace until she was standing in front of where he was sitting on the bed.

"How're you doing?" She asked.

"Me? I'm fine." That didn't come out as strongly as Murphy wanted it to.

"You sure about that?" She shifted her position so that way her hands were on her hips. "Connor said you fainted last night."

"Oh really," Murphy said. "What else did Connor say?"

"He said, verbatim, that you're 'a stubborn prick that refuses to go to the hospital.'" A smirk grew across her face as she said that. Murphy shot his brother a dirty look.

"What? It's the fucking truth!" Connor said. "Christ, Murph, you hit your head, you've had a non-stop headache for three days, and last night you fainted! If those aren't sure signs you're due for a hospital visit, I'm not sure what is!"

Murphy didn't say anything to that. He just shot Connor a look that said: "If I wasn't in literal agony right now, I would kick your ass." Ellie, meanwhile, continued to stare Murphy down.

"Why haven't you gone to the hospital?" she asked. "What are you afraid of doctors or something?"

"No," Murphy responded.

"Then what's the hold up?" Ellie said. "You do realize if you're concussed, you do need to get checked out by a doctor to make sure there isn't any internal hemorrhaging going on in your head."

"Internal hemorrhaging?" Connor questioned.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "When you get a concussion, your brain hits the inside of the skull causing damage that would result in symptoms such as headaches, vomiting, dizziness, fainting, and forgetfulness. Depending on the severity of the concussion, sometimes the brain gets hurt so bad it starts bleeding and it makes those symptoms worse. That's why they tell you not to take Ibuprofen if you've suffered a recent blow to the head. That stuff thins out your blood and can make the bleeding worse." Connor and Murphy just stared at her. "My sister's pre-med. Also, I've suffered more than a few blows to the head… So yeah, I know this shit." They just continued to stare at her. "What?"

"…So Ibuprofen would be like aspirin, right?" Murphy asked slowly.

"No," Ellie said. "Aspirin or Tylenol would be Acetaminophen, which is perfectly fine to take. Ibuprofen would be in things like Advil, Motrin, Midol..."

"What's the worst that could happen if you take, like, several Advil over the course of a few days while you have a concussion?" Murphy's face was completely devoid of color.

"You'd bleed out internally and die." Ellie didn't like saying that, and it was pretty clear from the look on Murphy's face what had happened.

"Yeah," he said. "I think I'm ready to go to the hospital."

* * *

They didn't technically go to the hospital. They went to the community health center down the street from Connor and Murphy's apartment, the only reason for doing so being that it was much closer than any of the hospitals in the area and Murphy probably needed to be seen ASAP. Thankfully the waiting room was empty and none of the doctors were busy with other patients, so they were able to be seen quickly.

A nurse took Murphy's vitals and asked him about the symptoms he had been experiencing. Connor explained to the woman what had happened – obviously leaving out any parts having to do with any illegal activity and giving a story that matched up with the one he told Ellie earlier. The nurse asked a number of questions, ranging from how long ago the injury occurred and whether or not he had taken any medication to try and treat his condition. Murphy admitted that several days had gone by and that he had taken ibuprofen. The nurse admonished him for waiting so long to come in when he suspected that he had a concussion, and once again he was informed of the dangers of taking ibuprofen for a head injury.

The nurse then flashed a pen light in Murphy's eyes and confirmed that his pupils weren't reacting. This most likely meant that he was concussed, but he would still need to see a doctor to confirm this diagnosis and to make sure that there was nothing else seriously wrong. She then exited the room, leaving the three of them in an awkward silence while they waited for the doctor. Murphy leaned back on the exam table and covered his eyes with his arm, most likely in an attempt to ease the pain in his head.

"I'm sorry you got concussed," Ellie eventually said.

"Why are you sorry?" Murphy didn't even look up. "You didn't knock me out cold."

"Yeah," Ellie said. "But I know it's my fault anyway."

"How is it your fault?" He questioned.

"I don't know," She admitted. "It just always is."

"Oh yeah," He said. "Who told you that?"

"Anth-" Her eyes went wide as she caught herself, like it was something she wasn't supposed to say. "No one. No one told me that. I just know."

Murphy pulled his arm away from his face and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her. Connor's eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

"No," Connor said. "You were going to say a name. Whose was it?"

"No, I wasn't." Ellie's face became stricken with anxiety. "No one said that to me, it's just something I've always assumed, okay?"

"Elle," Murphy said. "It's pretty clear that you're lying. We're not going to do or say anything bad. Just tell the truth." Ellie looked like she was on the brink of tears, but she nodded before taking a deep breath.

"His name is…" She had to stop as she choked on a sob and contemplated her words. "His name is Anthony. Anthony Costello. He was… He is… He's… He's my boyfriend."

Murphy let out an indignant snort.

"Jesus," he said. "He must be one hell of a boyfriend if he says shit like that to you."

Connor looked like he was about to say something, but Ellie spoke up before he could.

"He…" She said. "He doesn't really say shit like that to me anymore."

"Why?" Murphy said. "Because he's 'not like that anymore?' 'He's a nice guy now?' 'He's changed?' Let me tell you something right now: people like that don't change. They only get worse."

"Lass," Connor said. "You realize you don't have to stay with that guy, right? If he's talking to you like that it isn't long before he-"

"No," Ellie said. "It's not like that. He… He hasn't been around in a while. I haven't seen him in over a year. That's why I was crying earlier. This guy from the FBI kept asking me a bunch of questions…"

"The FBI," Connor questioned. "Dafaq do they have to do with anything?"

Ellie had to take a deep breath before saying, "they wanted to know where he was. He did something bad and now they're looking for him. They think I know where he is."

"Do you know where he is?" Ellie stayed quiet in response. "Well then, what the fuck did he do to get the FBI's attention?"

Before anyone could say anything else, the doctor walked in. He was an older, overly cheerful man who shook hands with the brothers and Ellie as soon as he walked into the room. He reiterated a lot of the questions the nurse asked earlier and Connor and Murphy gave much the same responses. Ellie's mind wandered against her will to horrifying places as the same events replayed around her.

* * *

**April 21st, 2000**

Anthony took her hand as soon as she hopped down from the passenger seat of the truck. She bit her lip and straightened out her dress. She hoped she made a good first impression. If she didn't, there would be hell to pay.

They came to a stop just before the front door.

"So, this is it," Ellie said. Anthony just hummed in response. "Look, I know what you're going to say 'cause you've said it already, but do I look at the very least passible?" Anthony let out an irritated sigh.

"I guess," He shrugged. "I mean, you still look like a tramp, but I guess if you keep your sweater on and your legs closed, my parents might not catch on." Ellie's face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet.

"Okay." She muttered something else.

"I'm sorry," Anthony said. "I didn't hear that."

"Okay," she said a little more loudly. "I'm sorry I dressed like a freaking whore, okay?"

"Glad to hear that." He put a hand on her shoulder as he smiled at her. "So you know better for next time, right?"

"Yes," Ellie agreed.

"And if anything goes wrong tonight, it's your fault," he said. "Understand?"

"Yes," she said again.

"Good." He removed his hand from her shoulder. "I think we're ready to go in now."

"Alright," Ellie took a deep breath to calm her down.

"Just one thing," Anthony said. "Please don't mind the mess. The cleaning lady left early today and they're going to know it's me, so there's no point in trying to clean it up." Ellie's brow knitted in confusion.

"What?" she said. "Who's going to know it were you, your parents? I don't get this, why can't you clean up the mess?"

"Don't worry about it." Anthony fished around in his pocket for the key to the front door. "Just trust me."

"Okay." Ellie reluctantly nodded.

Anthony found the key and used it to unlock the heavy oak door. Ellie was definitely surprised by the state of things in the foyer. Red paint stained every wall and surface. It was smeared across a small table that decorated the entryway and tiny little droplets even coated the surface of the white roses that had most likely been knocked out of the smashed vase on the ground. A few feet away, a blond young man was taking a nap in a large puddle of red paint. At least, that's what Ellie told herself.

_He's just drunk._  She thought.  _They were doing some kind of art project and he got smashed and passed out in the red paint. That's the rational explanation for this. He's not hurt, just **sleeping**._

Ellie didn't realize she was shaking until Anthony took her hand and guided her over to where the blond man was sleeping soundly. So soundly, in fact, that it didn't even sound like he was breathing at all. Ellie kept lying to herself about the reality of the situation until Anthony crouched down next to the "unconscious" and flipped him over to reveal a hole in his head the size of a quarter and several dozen stab wounds across his chest. The man's blue eyes gazed blankly at the ceiling.

"Ellie," Anthony said as he turned to look back over his shoulder at her. "Meet my brother, Ryan."

It was at this point that Ellie's false reality shattered around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family! Kill your family!
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 9/26/18.


	7. The Almost Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And this would have been the ending.

**April 22nd, 2000**

Ellie's breaths came in heaving sobs. She didn't think about how Anthony could become annoyed by her crying at any minute and decide to silence her once and for all. She could only think of how these were her final moments on Earth. She always knew she would die young, but she always assumed it would involve alcohol and a series of bad decisions that led to her driving up the Mass Pike at 120 mph on the wrong side of the road. She never thought that someone who was supposed to  **love**  her – someone who was supposed to  **care**  about her – would kill her.

In times of crisis such as this, many people turn to God or prayer to get them through. However, Ellie did none of that. She did try appealing to someone, though, but it wasn't any sort of deity. In fact, she didn't know who it was she was appealing to. She just repeated the same mantra repeatedly in her head, hoping that it would somehow make a difference.

_Let me be brave._

_Let me be brave._

_Let me be brave._

She no idea of where the words came from, or even what they meant, but somehow, they gave Ellie some form of solace. If she kept repeating those words; kept taking in breaths, then she was still alive, and when the time finally came for her to face her death, she wanted to go out on her own terms, brave and strong.

To accomplish that, though, Ellie first needed to stop crying. She fought for what felt like hours to get her breathing and tears under control, but eventually she somehow managed it. She had to wipe away her snot and tears with her hands, but it's not like she cared. She didn't have to worry about spreading her germs to other people anymore.

Once she had gotten that under control, she looked up and realized that they weren't going to the airport. They were on I-93 South going towards the Braintree Split. Glancing at the clock, Ellie realized that they had been driving around for several hours. God only knew what route they had taken, but as far as Ellie could tell, they hadn't attracted the attention of the police or passing motorists at all. She briefly considered trying to attract attention herself, but there was no point. As soon as she did something to draw attention to the truck, Anthony would surely put a bullet in her brain and that would be the end of that. Ellie may have come to terms with the fact that she was going to die, but she still wanted to put it off if she could.

For a brief second, Ellie ventured a glance at Anthony. She instantly regretted it. He was gripping the steering wheel with his left hand and knuckles white. In his right hand, he kept the pistol trained on her head. His face had contorted into something that was purely the stuff of nightmares; his teeth were clenched as tightly as humanly possible, and his eyes were filled with such a rage that Ellie could instantly feel her heart sink.

_This is it. This is the man who's going to kill me. Please, just let me be brave._

Ellie quickly pulled her eyes away and turned her head in the other direction. Looking out beside her, she realized that if they were going south, then everything outside the passenger's window would be to the west. If it were a normal day, she'd probably be able to see the sunset at about this time right now. However, this was the day she was going to die and of course she wasn't going to get what she wanted. Instead, what she got was a gray and drizzly view of the slums of Dorchester stretching out just behind the graffiti-covered barrier walls. It only served to depress her more.

_I want to see another sunset. I won't, though. Let me be brave._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, not really. I would have gone on from that point but then I realized there were about eighty logical problems with my story so I just cut and paste what I could use into something readable and that's how you ended up with the current version of Better to Be Fake and Happy.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. There's going to be a sequel coming out on All Saints' Day, so be sure to look out for that.
> 
> Remember kids, it's better to be fake and happy than real and miserable.
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 10/5/18.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, me posting this dumpster fire has nothing to do with the fact that I couldn't get all of my post dates for July covered in time. What would give you that idea?
> 
> Remember kids, always plan your posting schedules responsibly.
> 
> Originally posted to FFN on 7/8/18.


End file.
